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#you can still hear them underneath though
llamagoddessofficial · 16 hours
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How would the Bad sanses feel about kids?
Horror isn't a fan of how children have a habit of immediately bursting into terrified tears when they look at him. Kinda rude. He copes by deliberately scaring them; if a kid looks at him he pulls his scariest face. Might even say "boo" just for effect. Deep down, though, he does like kids - before it all went wrong in the Underground he used to dream about being an uncle to Papyrus' future children. When he's around you, he catches himself thinking about it... his own kids would like his face just the way it was, wouldn't they? So long as he was a good dad, it wouldn't matter what he looked like. That sounds so wonderful.
If he somehow finds a kid who isn't frightened of him, he will go full papa bear mode. Horror's the most likely of the bad guys to find a lost child and scoop them up.
Dust... avoids children like the plague. He shares Horror's habit of deliberately scaring them. He has a lot of reasons. He's a dangerous mass murderer, that's one; he also doesn't do great with noise. The sound of a crying or shouting child grates at him like nails on a chalkboard. Not to mention the fact that he's had enough of dealing with childish behaviour after a few hours around Killer.
... He also doesn't like being reminded of all the kids that used to live in his Underground. He doesn't like looking at little faces and remembering how Papyrus used to smile at him, the big brother who was supposed to keep him safe, the exact same way. The thing about having high LV is you get very used to being numb... those stabs of emotion, when they do get through, are too much.
He likes seeing you interact with kids, though. You're much better than he is, softer and kinder. Makes him think about what could've been.
Killer is great with kids. He's exciting, he's funny, he's got endless energy. He perfectly channels the 'fun uncle who clearly wants kids and would be an amazing dad', and the presence of children grounds him, taking the edge off of his worse traits and continuously pulling him down to reality. But he's also a terrible influence when left unattended. Give him an hour, and he'll be showing them how to properly hold a knife, telling them how crime isn't really that bad, and that they should totally just bite their bully as hard as they possibly can.
If a child lets him pick them up, Killer will constantly be trying to catch your eye. His huge grin speaks volumes; so when are WE gonna make our own one of these?
Nightmare says he doesn't like children. He definitely acts like it, too, he's cold and intimidating. But deep down, he's always wanted kids of his own - and he's bitter, because before he was corrupted he used to be really good with kids. Dream was (and still is) better at entertaining children but Nightmare could comfort the introverts; shy kids who cried around Dream would happily fall asleep on Nightmare's shoulder. Not anymore.
The thing is... when kids are around him for a while, you'll start to see hints of something underneath the grump. You'll notice he never raises his voice. You'll hear how his tone slips into something stern, yet calm. You'll see the 'strict but fair' edge to his sockets and mouth, you'll notice how despite all the talk of not caring his tentacles will ALWAYS catch anyone whose tiny feet are unsteady. There's a dad under there.
He's in no place for kids right now. But he does think about it - when you're around he thinks far more than he'd ever admit. He imagines giving someone the childhood he never had. If only.
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zayne-li · 1 day
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Cross posted on AO3, may be edited in the future, it was written very shortly after the game actually came out.
Explicit, MDNI.
Zayne gets injured, MC saves him, and Zayne has very normal feelings about it.
Feelings like: femdom, etc.
"Zayne! Zayne! Can you hear me? Come on, get up, you have to get up, we need to go now!"
The world is fuzzy at the edges, and there's a tinny sort of ringing in his ears, but he hears his hunters voice. She's upset. Why?
Arms stronger than they should be tug at the lapels of his white doctors coat, dragging him up off the concrete, and he blinks hard several times. His head is swimming. 
Zayne groans, deep and low as his awareness slowly returns, able to blearily look around and recall that right, yes, we were at my favorite sweets shop... And then...
"I know it hurts, Zayne, but I really, really need you to get up right now." That's her voice again, and then he can see her. Right in front of him, holding him halfway off the ground. There's blood smeared across her lips, cheek, and eye, and her hair is ashy with dust, no hint of the real color underneath it all. 
It occurs to him that it's concerning he can't recall what exactly has happened. Was it Wanderers? Some sort of accident? A weak cough escapes him as his shoes scrape across the loose pebbles on the road. 
Everything hurts. Like one giant bruise all over his body. But he is slowly regaining his senses. He does have at least that.
All around them is destruction: rubble and dust and shouts for loved ones piercing through the fog. The air smells and tastes metallic as his hunter helps him up onto shaky feet, hoisting one of his arms over her shoulder and wrapping the other around his middle.
"Can you walk? We need to get you to Akso now."
Her pupils are blown, and eyes wild. It's a look he hasn't seen on her before. Despite the pain and danger they are in, there is something about her in this very moment(maybe the blood, the adrenaline, this demeanor he's never seen before) that makes his gut clench.
Ought to dissect that later, he thinks. Then again, perhaps not.
"Akso?" His voice is rough, throat sticky with dust.
"Yes, you broke at least two of your ribs in that explosion, you need medical care, do you understand?" 
His eyes drop down to hers, and he realizes just how much they are touching in this moment. All the way from their feet to her head, becoming a long line of heat down the right side of his body.
What timing, Doctor Li.
"I understand." He confirms to her, and plants his gaze firmly ahead of them, forcing his attention onto the task at hand rather than the way that look in her eyes makes him feel.
--
Weeks later he is still recalling that day, though who can blame him, confined to bed rest as he is? Three broken ribs and a full month of leave from the hospital, it's difficult to find ways to entertain himself. 
Zayne closes his eyes and he sees her covered in sweat, that single minded determination carving deep lines into her face. If she'd had to, she would have dragged his limp body to the doors of the hospital. It was a look that told him, "I'm not losing you too. Not today." It was that look that had given him the strength to keep putting one foot in front of the other. 
It aroused him deep in his gut, somewhere he hadn't even known existed. 
It was disturbing, in more ways than one. 
He'd begun to have dreams. 
Dreams of her coming home to his apartment, the door closing with more force than necessary, her dirty boots crossing through the kitchen with purpose. And when she found that purpose, she would have that same look on her face. In some of the dreams she'd still have blood on her face, and she'd lick the droplets away, just as she did while she labored to save his life that day. 
She would grab him by the knot of his tie, stifling his surprise with a bruising kiss, plundering his mouth like a woman starved, using her unexpected strength to push him back against the wall, to cover him with her smaller frame. He would moan into her throat and her lips would curve into a smile against his. 
One night, he wakes around four in the morning after dreaming of his hunters battle lust and he finds himself in an uncomfortable, sticky mess.
Zayne knows he loves her. He has since he was a boy, that has never changed, but through the years, his crush has waxed and waned, but remained fundamentally childlike. It hasn't been until they reconnected this past year that he'd even begun to let his thoughts drift to more unsavory places. And now... Well he determines that this new... Discovery of his remain well and firmly hidden. 
Her presence in his life is too precious to waste with his depraved imagination. 
After all, while he's been bored and cooped up in his apartment, with strict instructions from every person in his life to "Sit and rest, for once!" She has been visiting him almost daily. Usually not for long, as her own work keeps her extraordinarily busy(he supposes he's never noticed just how hard and much she works before, because he himself is often entrenched in his own), but always with an easy smile and some sort of treat for him. Chocolate, or cookies, one afternoon a little fruit tart from a vendor she passed on her way to see him.
Most of the time, it is no challenge for him to recognize that her friendship is far, far too valuable to risk losing. 
Today, she knocks on his door, and when he opens it, he almost forgets. 
She's a mess. 
There's a fairly large, but shallow cut across most of her face, from her cheek down to her chin, her hair is pulled up haphazardly, the leather glove she normally wears is missing, and her clothes, though neat, have small tears across one of her knees, and her shoulder. 
Zayne swallows before he greets her. 
"Difficult day?" 
She exhales a chuckle. "Just a long one, sorry. I was going to go home to clean up, but by then it would have been pretty late, and I was already nearby when I finished, so I thought I'd just uh... Drop in." 
She's sheepish, rubbing the back of her neck with one hand, and Zayne forces himself to look away, making eye contact with the corner of the wall instead. There's a chip in the paint. 
"Really, you needn't trouble yourself on my behalf, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. You require rest as well as I." 
What would it feel like, right now, to have her press up against him? Warm. Solid, he thinks. Would she grab him by his jaw? Turn his face this way and that? 
He imagines how she would taste. Salty and metallic, he thinks, especially now. His hunter, shoving him onto his back in his bed, she would be impatient, barely taking the time to undo their pants before sheathing herself on his cock, using her palms on his chest for leverage to fuck herself as she pleased. 
"Yeah, well then we might as well rest together, huh?"
She pulls him from his depraved thoughts.
Zayne realizes that the heat between his legs, if not controlled soon, will become a much larger problem(no pun intended).
"You have quite the knack for turning phrases, you know." His tone stays even, and he turns away, inviting her inside without another word, his excuse being the television in his living room that needs muting. 
"And you never have this much time off. It's kinda fun, really." 
He hears the click of the door shutting, and the turn of the lock. 
"I brought you something, too."
Thud on the kitchen counter. Whatever it is, it sounds hefty. While he pretends to look for his remote, he adjusts himself in his pants, burning with shame for this predicament. 
"What is it this time?" 
"Brownies! Salted caramel flavored. They're my favorite."
She appears quite suddenly in the corner of his vision, and he jumps, feeling his face grow hot. 
"Thoughtful as always." He smiles, and hits the mute button on another story of wanderer attacks. 
His hunter frowns, leaning her body around to get a good look at him. 
"Something's wrong. What's wrong?" Her tone leaves no room for arguments, and Zayne's eyes go a bit wide just for a moment. 
"What makes you think anything is wrong? Other than my broken ribs?" He doesn't realize it, but he imitates her in the way he tilts his head. The mirth in her eyes makes his chest ache. 
"You're blushing, Doctor Zayne." Her tongue pokes out from between her teeth with her smile. 
"Perhaps I'm coming down with a fever." He counters. 
She squints, but moves away, rolling not just her eyes, but her whole head. "Oooh-kay. Then perhaps I should leave, huh? Keep you from spreading your virus all over Linkon?" 
His mouth opens, but he has no immediate response. 
"Uh-huh." She oozes with smugness. 
God he wants her. Whether in his dreams, or right now, either will do. He's wanted her for so long. And now she's so close. Zayne feels his entire chest go tight with longing. He wants everything with her. For her. 
He wants her to be with him always. If he could put a tiny little hunter in his pocket and keep her there he would, just so he could pull her out when he likes to soothe the ache in his soul that she both creates and fills in equal measure.
He wants her just like this, messy and stinking of rain and sweat and blood, he wants her sweetness, her humor, her easy charisma.
And God he wants her to claim him. He wants the battle lust, her fingernails deep in his scalp, the stinging on his back. He wants her to take whatever she likes from him, his body, his soul, his everything. 
"I wasn't blushing. You are mistaken." Somehow he keeps his voice even and calm, though inside he fights to keep from pouncing on her. 
Down, boy.
Recognition flashes across her face. 
And then a flurry of emotions he has trouble naming. Confusion, shock, and something else he can't define, but it reminds him of the day they were in that explosion, and she became someone he didn't know. 
His hunter steps forward, further into his space, and on instinct, Zayne steps back, his swallow loud in the quiet apartment. 
She must see something on his face. Fear, he thinks. And her expression of bewilderment changes as her gaze flickers rapidly across his features, first his eyes, his mouth, the bob in his throat, the fist clenched at his side, and then back to his mouth.
Her movements are slow as she takes another step forward, as if she's afraid to spook him, like one would a wild animal. She grabs the front of his shirt, and he swallows back a whine. 
His hunter sees this too.
"Why haven't you said anything?" 
"You frighten me sometimes."
Do I, Doctor Zayne?" Her eyes are dark, and she pulls him down to her, tilting her head just so, and holds him a hairsbreadth away from her lips.
He can taste her breath. It makes his knees weak. God, if you are there, don't wake me from this dream.
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kcwriter-blog · 3 days
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An Argument in Favor of Solas as the Family Dog
It’s been posited, sometimes facetiously, that Solas was the “family dog” in his younger days. It’s a theory I have been kicking around for a while. If I’m right (and I’m probably not) Solas as the equivalent to the family dog makes a lot of sense – especially when it comes to what he has done in the past and what he plans to do in the future.
My theory is based on the number and positioning of the many Fen’Harel statues found throughout Thedas and in some of the places our Inquisitor travels to in Trespasser. There’s also the odd role wolves seem to play in Elven cuture. Finally, there is Solas’ personality. More under the cut.
We see statues of wolves all over the place but generally they are found in front of ancient Elvhen sites. There are statues at the Temple of Mythal, the Temple of Dirthamon and the grove in Crestwood. I also recently found one near Ghilan’nain’s grove. We see a lot of wolf statues in the Dales (we will get to the Emerald Knight companion thing, presently). Given that Fen’Harel was a rebel in ancient times and the equivalent of the Dalish devil in current day Thedas, what gives? Why all the statues? At the very least they should have been destroyed when he rebelled. It doesn’t make sense.
Let’s look at the positioning of the statues. Invariably we see a reclining wolf placed outside what we’ll call the inner sanctuary. That is, they are always at the front before you go into the place you would pray or make your offerings. It’s not a stretch to believe these statues are guarding the temples. We also see wolf statues placed all over the Vir Dirthara. That’s an even weirder place to see them because Solas implies that he isn’t called Fen’Harel until after his rebellion – so why a statue and why one in a guardian position? We do see howling wolves sometimes. They are mostly seen decorating eluvians. Again, they seem to be guarding or protecting something.
Moving along, we learn about the wolf companions the Emerald Knights have. This is also odd. Why wolves? Fen’Harel is theoretically a Trickster God and responsible for locking up the other gods. Usually, when a culture equates a god with negative attributes, people are wary around the animal representing it. Not in this case. These are guardian wolves and there are statues of them all over the Dales. I don’t think all the statues are of wolf companions. Many of the wolf statues are carved into mountainsides and they are gigantic. It would take a long time to create those without magic. And let’s not forget the statues we see underneath waterfalls in Watcher’s Reach and the Exalted Plains. They should be worn away by the water but aren’t. Watcher’s Reach is an old Elven ruin. Magic presumably keeps them from being worn down. Why? Because Fen’Harel is guarding the Dales.
Fen’Harel as guardian can also be seen in Dalish practice. A statue of Fen’Harel is always placed outside the camp to guard against demons. Given that he is thought of as practically a demon himself, this is again, weird behavior.
The stories we hear about him in Masked Empire are also interesting, particularly the Slow Arrow. In it, a village is beset by a monster. The other gods refuse to help so they turn to Fen’Harel. He answers their prayers by showing up. He realizes he can’t defeat the monster. He is then presented with a hard choice. He can attempt to kill it, even though he knows he will probably die and if that happens so will everyone in the village, or he can do something clever and save some of them. So, he launches the slow arrow. The monster comes, kills the adults but dies before it can kill the children. This is in keeping with Solas’ fairly pragmatic personality. It also, illustrates that Fen’Harel, out of all the gods, even Mythal is always willing to come to the aid of the People.
So, what can we make of this? I believe Fen’Harel was and still is tasked with protecting the People. In a sense he fulfills the position of an Aavar hold beast. How did this happen? I’m not sure. Mythal could have called him out of the Fade with the purpose of protecting the People during the war with the Titans. His spirit could have been bound to a giant wolf. In the Deep Roads there is a codex that indicates depictions of Mythal were found alongside those of Fen’Harel. We know spirits can be reborn. If the giant wolf fell in battle, it might have been reborn and placed in an Elvhen body. Was it a body of it’s own or did it share a body in a similar fashion to Anders and Justice?
Solas as guardian of the People fits in other ways. If he wasn’t one of the Evanuris, he would have been part of the inner circle. He has some very nice castles and talks about missing court intrigue. He had status. If he wasn’t one of the Evanuris, serving as their gurad dog would give him that status
Also, in the library, the spirits replay the final days of the elves when the Veil goes up. They are shocked that Fen’Harel would do something like this. Why? He’s been rebelling for a while so why the surprise? Maybe because he’s supposed to protect The People, not hurt them.
What could have happened? As the Evanuris became more corrupt they began hurting the People. They enslaved them, used them for experiments, hunted them and sacrificed them. If your purpose is to protect the People, what do you as a spirit do?
We see how Cole is diverted from his purpose as a spirit of Compassion into a spirit who performs mercy killings. He’s not the exact opposite of Compassion but he isn’t fulfilling his purpose either. A spirit with a body seems to be more complex. It’s not so binary. If Solas was a bound spirit, the only way to protect his charges might be to do what he did.
Fast-forward to the present day. He wakes up, sees how his people are treated and feels duty-bound to do what he can to save them. In this case by tearing down the Veil. It could be seen as a compulsion.
I’ve probably missed a ton of other evidence but in my opinion, all signs point to Solas at one time being the Protector of the People whose purpose was then twisted. I’d be interested in knowing what other people think. 
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throneofsmut · 7 hours
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SURPRISE SURPRISE
Ruhn Danaan x Female Reader
Description: Ruhn and reader celebrate her birthday in a rented out movie theater. Based off this request.
Warnings: Violence, fighting, mentions of blood and injuries, mentions of alcohol and smut.
Word Count: 4.2K
Author's Note: Sorry this took longer than i thought it would but im currently visiting family in another state but im gonna work on the other reqs in a few hours and post as soon as i can and i orignially didnt plan for this fic to be this long but sometime the fics write themselves. Btw happy birthday bestie @historygeekqueen ❤️ i hope you like it bestie !!
****
You’ve known who “Ruhn Danaan The Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae” is ever since you could remember but you only met him almost a year ago. 
When he arrested you at the White Raven after you got into a fight with a lion-shifter after overhearing him talk shit about your cousin Tristan Flynn while you were celebrating getting hired as the club’s new bartender with your friends. Apparently his girlfriend had left him for Tristan instead and he was shit-talking him to another shifter.
You and Tristan didn’t look alike at all and even though you were only in your early 20’s, you were extremely close—he was the big brother you never had. 
It wasn’t the first time you got into a fight defending him and it wouldn’t be the last. He’s gotten into his fair share of fights defending you too. Which was why you didn’t think twice before punching the lion-shifter in the nose after you threw your drink in his face. A wicked grin settling over your lips as you heard a loud crunch and seconds later the tangy scent of copper filled your nose. 
You two traded blows before the other shifter—his friend—started swinging at you too when he noticed all your blows were landing and not the other way around. You dodged or blocked most of their hits but since it was two of them, some of them did land. But still almost all of yours were hitting their mark. Thanks to Tristan teaching you how to fight.
The Aux was there not even five minutes after the fight started. You felt strong arms—undoubtedly male by his scent—wrap around you right as you were about to land a blow that would hopefully knock the lion-shifter out. His friend was already laid out on the floor, unconscious. 
Your chest was still heaving slightly with effort. Your heartbeat wildly because of all the adrenaline. And you didn’t have to look at your hands to know your knuckles were most likely split, swollen and bruised. No doubt covered in blood. Theirs and yours. 
Groaning internally thinking about what you must look like. 
You tried lifting a hand to your lip that was throbbing but as soon as your arm shifted the tiniest bit, the arms that were wrapped around you clamped down harder. 
The male was practically carrying you out of the White Raven and towards one of the Aux’s patrol cars. 
“Where’s Flynn? I need Tristan!” You said to the male. Trying to turn in his arms to face him. You were just about to ask for your cousin again when his deep, sensual, voice filled your ears. 
“Just because you two had a one night stand doesn’t mean he’s gonna come and save you.” You could practically hear his eye roll as he put you in the back of the car. Seconds later the driver’s side door opened and the male slid in. Leaning your head back on the head rest, you let a knowing smirk grace your lips, feeling a slight sting as the split in it opened again. “What are you smirking at?” The male snapped. 
You didn’t open your eyes, settling further into the backseat, “You’ll see.” He was probably some Aux grunt and Tristan was going to rip into him. 
Ten minutes later you pull into the parking garage located underneath the Aux. You didn’t say anything to the male as he led you into the building and towards one of the interrogation rooms. 
A frown settling over your features as you took in your ripped dress while the male cuffed you to the metal table. You were so focused on your dress that you didn’t notice the way his eyes looked you over. Lingering on your thighs. He was already at the door when your voice halted him mid-step, “Flynn?” You asked, voice full of hope.
He didn’t respond; he only lingered in the door for a second longer before shutting it harder than necessary. 
You sigh, hanging your head and it’s only a couple minutes later that you realize that your dress had ridden up. Thick thighs on full display. You wouldn’t be surprised if the male had seen your black lace panties.
Letting out an annoyed huff, you look between your hands cuffed to the metal table and your thighs. Only letting a heartbeat pass before deciding to break the cuffs. 
And as soon as you stand up to adjust your dress two males walk through the door. The both of them just stare at you as you shrug, “I had to fix my dress,” you explain. 
The white-haired male scoffs at you as you sit back down, crossing one leg over the other. But the raven-haired male stares at your thighs unabashedly before lifting his gaze to the deep cut of your dress—so blue it’s almost black depending on the way light hits it—where it lingers before meeting your eyes. 
Tilting your head to the side, “You look familiar,” you say to the raven-haired male. 
He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he directs his words to male next to him, “Go get her some water. She needs to sober up.”
“No. I only had a few drinks.” In other words, you’re not that drunk. 
“Go.” He commands the other male and he leaves.
“Where’s Tristan?”
“He’s not coming, let it go.”
“Call him.” You grit out, your annoyance dripping off of every word.
“No. He—“ The raven-haired male is cut off by the door slamming open. Your cousin stalks towards you, all but seething, but before he can reach you the other male blocks him. 
“Move.” Tristan growls at him. The male doesn’t move so your cousin shoves him out of the way and then drops to a knee in front of you, grabbing your face. No doubt trying to figure out if the blood on your face is yours or not.
“I asked for you.” You tell him quietly as he lightly taps your swollen brow, growling when you wince. 
Then he’s whirling on the male behind him, “Why didn’t you get me when she asked for me.” A command not a question.
The male crosses his arms, not at all fazed by your cousin, “How, am I supposed to know that you care about a random female that you had a one night stand with?” 
“She’s my fucking cousin!” He snaps and the raven-haired male's eyes widen. His eyes flicked between Tristan and you. 
That's when you noticed his eyes were blue—so blue they were violet. Beautiful. He was beautiful. 
“I-“
“Fuck you, Ruhn!”
You lean out of your seat to get a good look at the male. “That’s Ruhn?” You ask your cousin. “You’re Ruhn?” You ask the male.
“Yes.” They answer at the same time.
You blink once, “Hmm. Maybe I am drunker than I thought.” You say out loud to yourself before looking at  Ruhn again. “I thought you—“ you began to say to him but your cousin cut you off. 
“He is going to get me a first aid kit so I can patch you up.” Tristan says pointedly. 
You arch a brow, “For what? I’ll heal.” You argue.
“Don’t care.” You hold your cousin’s challenging stare. 
“Fine,” you huff. Ruhn takes that as his cue to leave to go get the first aid kit but you don’t miss the corners of his mouth tilting up in an amused smile. And as soon as he walks out the room, your cousin begins to scold you and you try to argue back but he’s not having it. “But he talked shit about you—“
“I. Don’t. Care.” He bites out.
“Oh! So you mean to tell me if someone talked shit about me in front of you, you wouldn’t have done anything?”
“Of course not.”
“Exactly!” The both of you cross your arms at the same time. Your eyes flit to the closed door then back at your cousin, “Tris, can I tell you a secret?” 
He arches a brow at you. Waiting.
“Okay, but you can’t tell anyone or make fun of me or laugh at me.”
He rolls his eyes but nods.  
You stick your pinky out to him, “Promise me?”
He smirks at you, “I promise.” He swears as he locks his pinky with yours before pulling away. 
“I used to have a crush on him,” you whisper-yell. Clearly drunk.
“Him? Who?”
“Ruhn!” 
Tristan tilts his head back, groaning. 
“Stop!” You yell at him, “It was years ago.”
Your cousin looks at you, a disgusted grimace on his face, “So not anymore?”
“No!”
“Y/n?”
“Tris, I swear!” He stares at you for a couple seconds before bursting out with laughter and you swat at his arm. Bursting out with laughter too, “I hate you.”
The both of you are so caught up in your own world that you fail to notice Ruhn was right outside the door.
****
It’s been two weeks since your fight at the White Raven and you’ve been making excuses to not go out with your friends when they invite you because Tristan has been dramatically over protective. Even fussing that you have to start your job at the White Raven.
Which is why you decided to stay in this Saturday. You had just finished cleaning your apartment, settling onto your couch with a pint of ice cream, getting ready to watch “Fangs and Bangs” when someone knocked at your door.
You threw your head back into your couch, groaning, before setting your ice cream down on your coffee table. When the person on the other side of your door knocks again, louder this time. “Coming!” You yell in response. 
Without thinking you throw your door open, your brows pinching when you see who’s on the other side of the door. It’s Ruhn. As in Tristan’s best friend Ruhn. As in Ruhn Danaan “The Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae”, Ruhn.
His hand is still raised like he was just about to knock on the door again before you opened it. He takes you in. Looking at you from head to toe, those violet-blue eyes seem to gleam as they linger on your thighs longer than necessary. 
He’s looking at you like every other male does and yet it sets your skin aflame. Your thighs clenching beneath his gaze and finally your eyes meet and he gives you a knowing smirk. And it’s all you can do to glare at him before taking him in. 
From his long silky black hair, to his violet eyes, his lips, to his broad chest and then to his muscular—veiny arms. Gods, he had tattoos. You hadn’t noticed them the night you got arrested. And then down to his trim waist, his thick muscular thighs and his black combat boots. Frowning more at yourself than him. He was a dick to you but here you were lusting after him. 
When you meet his gaze again you notice his smirk falters. Then he finally speaks. “I just wanted to apologize for the way I acted. . . when I arrested you.”  
You blink at him, crossing your arms over your chest, and you don’t miss the way his eyes fall to your tits. 
Then he looks back up at you, clearing his throat, “So I got you these.” A bouquet of roses. Your eyes flick from him to the roses in his outstretched hand and in one quick motion you take them from him and slam the door in his face. Your face heating at the fact that Ruhn brought you flowers. Granted it was rude to slam the door in his face but he was rude to you too.
So it went on like that for a while. He would bring you flowers a couple times a week, either to your apartment or to the White Raven while you worked. Or he would simply drop off food for you at work. 
Then slowly you started eating together on your lunch breaks or you would share a pint of ice cream in your apartment while watching “Fangs and Bangs.” Never talking, just eating in silence. But it was a month later and he had started walking you to work and home from work whenever he had the chance to. 
You finally caved one day when you stood outside your door, keys gripped tightly in your hand, “What do you want from me?”
He answered immediately. “Go out with me. Let me make it up to you.”
“No.” 
“No?” He chuckled. “Why not?” 
“Because.” 
“Because. . . Why?”
You sigh. “Because, you go out with a lot of females and I don’t want to be just another female you go out with.” 
“Do you think I’ll break your heart or something, sweetheart?”
Your cheeks heat at the nickname but you meet his eyes, defiance shining in yours. “Nobody breaks my heart.” 
“So go out with me.” 
“Will you leave me alone, if I say yes?” He grins. “Fine. Just one.”
He grins even wider, “I’ll pick you up later at 7.”
“Just one.” You breathe.
“Just one.” He swears. 
You both lied to each other. One date turned into three. Three turned into five and you couldn’t lie that you had started to fall for him, but you both agreed not to tell Tristan. Since you both refused to put a label on your relationship, if you could call it that and it had almost been a year since he first showed up to your apartment. 
After that first date though, you’ve refused to give anyone else the time of day. Ruhn never said that you couldn’t see other people except they just didn’t compare to him. Males and females alike have tried to change your mind but whenever you thought about it your mind always strayed back to a certain fae male with long black hair, violet eyes, that towered over you. 
And you know you’re the only female Ruhn has been with too. 
Annoyingly, both of you were so busy which is why you’d only gone on five dates. But your schedule finally seemed to line up this weekend and he asked you out on another date. Which you instantly agreed to and canceled going out with your friends even though it was your birthday. You even canceled going out to dinner with Tristan to celebrate, breaking tradition and instead compromising to go out for breakfast. 
You’d rather spend time with Ruhn on your birthday even if he didn’t know that it was your birthday today. Any time spent with him was a gift, so when he called you and told you to get dressed and later sent you the address of where to meet you couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face. 
You had three hours to get ready before you had to meet him and your phone said it was only a ten-minute walk from your apartment. You didn’t waste any time starting your shower routine, doing your makeup, hair, and getting dressed. Deciding to wear a short red silk dress that accentuates your curves with black heels that lace up around your ankles. 
Making your way towards the front door you checked your phone and you were right on time. Turns out the address he sent you was to a movie theater, putting your phone back into your purse and locking the door to your apartment, you set off to go meet your prince. 
Once you get to the front of the building you check your phone again to see if Ruhn texted you again because it looks like it’s closed. But, right when you lift your phone to your ear you hear him, I’m here, sweetheart. Come inside. He says to you mind to mind. 
You let out a laugh, Why are you inside if it’s closed?
Come inside and you’ll find out.
You take a deep breath before heading inside the dark building, “Ruhn?” You call out. Walking deeper into the lobby you see one of the hallways is flickering with light. But once you get to the threshold you stop to take in all the rose petals and candles strategically placed on the floor of the hallway.
You’re about to call out for him again, when a shadow twines around your ankle and up your calf, before wrapping around your wrist and tugging you forward. The shadow excitedly leads you towards an open door that says “Theater 7” and once you get all the way inside the room you see him. Ruhn. 
Your eyes slowly sweep over his entire frame. He’s wearing black boots, black dress pants and a black dress shirt. His sleeves were casually rolled up, revealing toned, tattooed forearms. Then your eyes fall to lips that are curved up in a smirk and then to eyes that seem to darken as he takes you in. 
The shadow continues to lead you until you’re a foot away from him. “Hi,” you squeak out. Your cheeks burn at his undivided attention and he smiles smugly knowing that too. 
“Happy Birthday, sweetheart.” He says softly. 
You swat at him lightly. “You knew!”
He lets out a soft chuckle before wrapping his arms around you. “How could I not celebrate my girl on her special day.”
Your cheeks burn even hotter at his words. My girl. “You didn’t have to do all of this for me.” Your words are muffled by his shoulder but he still hears you.
He leans back, cradling your face in his face, “My girl deserves the world, sweetheart.” You sigh contentedly, eyes fluttering closed as a full smile blooms across your face. “I have another present for you.”
You gasp, “There’s more?” 
“For you, always.” He leads to a lounger in the middle, that’s in front of the movie screen and pulls out his phone. “Look at the screen,” he instructs and you do. Ruhn’s on his phone for a couple more seconds and then suddenly the screen comes to life with a slideshow of pictures—of you. 
Of the both of you together and some of just you. Some of them you remember he took while on or whenever you were together while the others you didn’t even realize he took. Your eyes well up with tears when you see yourself falling for him in the pictures—so clear in the way you look at him. 
And any doubt you had of him not falling for you is replaced with certainty that he is. You don’t know how you missed the way he looks at you when it’s so obvious in the pictures.
Once the slideshow ends you throw yourself into his arms, tears rolling down your cheeks as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Thank you, Ruhn.” 
“Did you like it?” He asks hesitantly. 
Nuzzling further into his neck, nodding, “I loved it.” 
He releases a breath, his chest meets yours as relief washes through him. “Thank gods.”
You pull back straddling him, wiping your tears away and his hands fall to your thighs. Rubbing them mindlessly. “Did you really think I wouldn’t love it?”
He shrugs. His eyes bore into yours. “I just wanted you to have a good birthday.”
“It would have been a great birthday regardless as long as I spent it with you.” You reassure him.
He nods, unconsciously licking his lips causing your gaze to fall to his mouth. You lift your eyes back to his and then drop them down to his lips again and then lightly graze your lips over his. Pulling him in closer, your fingers entwined in his hair as you brushed your lips over his again. Harder this time. 
His fingers dig into your plush thighs, earning a soft moan from you that allowed him to deepen the kiss. You grind your hips over his needly. Then you were swiping your tongue along the seam of his lips, seeking entrance, causing a groan to fall from Ruhn’s lips. As your tongue dipped inside his mouth, the both of you fighting for dominance before he won and explored your mouth. 
The both of you pull back at the same time, breathlessly gasping for air. 
The scents of your arousal thick in the air. His musky scent, intoxicating as it invades all of your senses. 
Your voice is breathy, “Ruhn, please. . .” still panting from the kiss. 
“Please, what, sweetheart?” His own chest was still rising and falling as he struggled to recover from the kiss, but his hands never stopped rubbing your thighs. 
“Fuck me.”
His eyes darken and a wicked smirk tugs at his kiss-swollen lips and it’s the only warning you get before he’s flipping you both over so your back is flat against the seat of the lounger. Ruhn hikes your dress up so it’s bunched around your waist before settling himself between your soft thick thighs. 
His large tattooed hands grip them hard enough you know you’ll have little bruises on them the same size of his fingers. He groans low in his throat while he places sensual teasing kisses along both of your inner thighs, alternating as he gets closer to your soaked cunt. 
Growling when a wave of your arousal hits him, “you’re gonna be the death of me.”
He murmurs under his breath and you can’t tell if it’s directed towards you or himself but it still elicits a whimper from you. 
“Ruhn, plea—“ your words die in your throat as he licks a long broad stripe along your clothed cunt. 
His dark chuckle is full of mirth as it echoes in your mind. Yes, sweetheart? 
I need more. I need. . . you. 
A heart beat later you hear fabric tear and then feel the cold air against your now bare cunt. Your light pink lace panties dangle from ring adorned fingers while you clench around nothing as he rubs tight circles over your swollen clit. 
Ruhn picks up the pace as he begins to murmur praises into your mind. Pressure begins to build at the base of your spine as he replaces his fingers with his tongue. Groaning at the taste of you on his tongue as he flicks, swirls and sucks at your sensitive bundle of nerves. 
“Oh f-fuuck, Ruhn!” You cry out as the overstimulation. 
Back arching when he slips a single thick finger into you. Then he slips in another, your walls spasming and contracting around them as your hips begin to buck unconsciously. “Good girl,” he praises. His voice thick with lust. “Just like that, sweetheart.” 
Then he dips his head back down, his tongue lightly and rapidly working your clit as he continues finger fucking you. 
You fall over the edge with a scream when he moans against your clit, the vibrations of it causing your back to arch off the lounger as your release barrels through you. 
Still coming down from your orgasm when Ruhn flips you so you’re on all fours. Your body threatens to buckle beneath you from aftershocks, but Ruhn places a large hand on your belly holding you up while rubbing the head of his cock through your slick folds. 
Your hips jerking while you whine from overstimulation, letting out shaky breaths as he talks you through it. “You can take it, sweetheart. Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?”
“Mhmm,” you respond. Not capable of words. 
Ruhn lets out a hiss as he buries himself in your cunt with a slow thrust, inch by inch, until he’s swallowed by your warmth. “Fuck. . . you take me so well.” His deep voice practically a purr, while he restrains your hands behind your back with your panties. 
He pulls almost all the way out to the tip before sinking all the way back in. Setting a merciless desperate pace as he fucks you. Your legs begin to shake as you feel another orgasm building. 
“Gods, I can feel your tight cunt squeezing me. Are you gonna c-cum for me again, sweetheart?”
You nod frantically, letting out a choked sob as he circles your clit with one of his hands.
“Fuck,” He grunts, never letting up as a second orgasm racks your body, working you through it. “Good girl.” He praises, slapping the side of one of your thick thighs. His words are drowned out by the sounds of skin slapping skin as his hips snap against the swell of your ass. 
His thrusts turn frantic as you feel your third orgasm about to tear through you. Ruhn’s hips stutter, “Give me one more. Cum with me, sweetheart.” And as soon as that last word fell from his lips you shatter, crying out his name as you both cum.  
Your name on his lips as you both collapse. He braces himself with one arm on the side of your body so he doesn’t crush you with his weight as he emptied himself inside you. Your walls spasm and contract around his pulsing cock, milking every last drop of his cum. 
The both of you stay there for a couple minutes and then he’s rolling you so you’re laying on top of him. “Thank you, for the best birthday my prince.” Your voice is still a bit shaky. 
He rubs his hands soothingly over your body. “This is nothing. We’re still gonna go back to your apartment for a few more rounds.” 
You lift your head to look at him, eyes wide. “Oh gods, you’re gonna kill me.” 
He laughs softly. “Just wait until next year,” he promises. 
Tagging: @historygeekqueen @misskennygirl
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David Bowie and Damon Albarn in a 2003 performance and interview
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tojisun · 2 months
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simon grunts, his chest heaving as he palms at his chub, tracing the twitching muscle of his cock and letting out a hiss at the muted pleasure that razes through him. he shivers at the heated look you give him, your pretty eyes awash with desire, scalding as it trails down the lines of his bulk until it settles on his flesh.
“ah,” you whisper and simon nearly moans at the awe in your voice.
“s’right, baby,” he says, feeling the way he pulses underneath his low-hanging sweats. “s’all f’r you.”
there is a whine that drags itself from the base of your throat, so primal in the way it scratches your vocal cords, and simon has to fist his cock to stop himself from rutting against his palm.
“i can’t,” you whine, pouting, your eyes still trained on his groin. “‘m gonna be late for work.”
“please,” he croaks out, breathless himself. “how about jus’ the tip, love? jus’ give daddy a taste of you ‘round me, yeah?”
simon knows it is playing dirty to pull this card on you—to exploit your one weakness—but simon’s guilt is tucked underneath his stretching need, the desire bloating as it leaks past his rationality, leaving him with thinning restraints.
your sharp inhale is all the answer he needs.
he bites the inside of his cheek to tamp down the smirk dancing to the corners of his lips.
“okay,” you reply, tentative and quiet. “but just the tip, you promise?”
“swear,” simon murmurs.
like a goddamn liar.
he relishes in the squeals dripping from your parted lips, only for them to be muffled into your pillow.
he’s got you on your knees, your front all but pressed flat on the bed, your arms having lost the energy to keep yourself up as simon fucks you from the back. he’s got fistfuls of your ass, using them as sweet, sweet leverage as he manhandles your body back to his cock.
“so good f’r daddy, sweet’art,” he rumbles, his voice so deep it even sounds foreign to him. “so, so fuckin’ good, love.”
he punctuates his words with hard thrusts; drawing his cock out slowly, deliberately torturous so he can watch the way your hole grips at his cock, not wanting to let him go, before punching it back in. he doesn’t stop and keeps pushing his cock past the gummy press of your walls until his hips are pressed flush to the fat of your ass.
then, he repeats the process—sharp snaps of his hips leaving you twitching, and simon watches with a crazed giddiness as your hands uselessly scratch at the sheets as though that could tether you.
he bends forward, his bulk covering your trembling body. “such a cute darlin’ for me, lovie.” he ruts his cock along a particular sweet spot. “say ‘thank you’ to daddy?”
he hears a warbled reply from where your head is pressed to your pillow.
“hmm? wha’s ‘at?”
simon cups a hand on your forehead and carefully pulls, tipping your head up just enough that he can hear you.
he hears a hiccuped sob, then, “than’ you, daddy.”
simon giggles and presses a kiss on the back of your head. “what a good doll y’are.”
something about that makes your body tremble, spasming in his hold, and simon watches with awe as your toes curl, before he has to let go of you at the sudden tightening of your walls. his eyes go white, his ears ringing with a sharp static.
he feels so, so overwhelmed at the expanding euphoria that washes over him, lapping at the synapses from the back of his skull to the cavity of his ribs.
“you came,” simon mutters in awe, his voice passing through his teeth like a gritted hiss. “christ, lovie-”
-
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garoujo · 7 months
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✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — you know as soon as you get out of bed, satoru isn’t going to be far behind you, especially when you’re draped in his shirt.
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ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, insatiable satoru :3, mostly teasing, some morning scenes as he tries to drag you back to bed, you’re in his shirt, he lifts you up at the end. ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! i am so very obsessed + crazed, i can’t stop <3
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it’s still early, barely light outside as you stand in the kitchen of your shared apartment. you’ve left your boyfriend gojo still in bed, you felt a little bad waking him up when he always looked so peaceful, probably tired out after the night he’d given you lastnight— the evidence of his efforts still burning on your skin where he’s left his mark.
but it had still been an effort to peel him off of you no matter how soundly he slept, having to pull yourself away from the warmth of his chest— his arms were like a puzzle with how tightly he wraps them around you, but you thought he’d appreciate waking up to some coffee and breakfast on his day off.
the air in the kitchen is still cold, something you’ve put down to the early morning— the roads outside are still quiet but there’s a slight breeze along your bare thighs when you move. the rest of your body is fine though, draped comfily in one of satoru’s ridiculously huge shirts, the perks of your boyfriend being over 6’3 ofcourse—plus he always payed such expensive amounts for his clothes, it was almost guaranteed they were gonna be comfy.
you giggle as you scoop a ridiculous amount of sugar into your boyfriends coffee cup, the ceramic identical to yours— his idea when he started coming over more often, but you still thought his sweet tooth was adorable.
“oh? good morning to you too, sweet thing.” your train of thought is interrupted by the smooth, still sleepy drawl as you shoot a quick glance over your shoulder to see gojo already approaching you. he couldn’t be apart from you too long afterall— it’s like his soul was tied with yours. he’s still shirtless, his hair is messy from sleep— snowy peaks framing his features while his sweatpants rest dangerously low on his hips.
“you’re awake early.” you sigh out, dreamily as you feel your boyfriends chest press against your back, his long arms circling their way around your waist from behind as he rests his head in the crook of your neck.
“mhm, how my supposed to sleep without you, hah? so cruel.” there’s a slight whine to gojo’s words, you can still hear the sleepiness in his tone but it makes you smile when it’s followed by a smeared kiss along your jawline. you roll your eyes before you lean into him, feeling his fingertips trace along the hem of your shirt, his shirt that’s hanging around your thighs before he speaks again.
“you teasin’ me?” his words are lower this time, a little more than a growl as he plays around with the fabric between his fingers— grumbling before he’s deliberately pressing his hips into you from behind. he’s close and warm, making sure you can feel the problem you left him with this morning when you got out of bed without him— straining against the fabric of his sweats.
“‘toru, it’s 8am. you’re insatiable.” you giggle out, a sweet little sound so early in the morning and it only seems to draw gojo in closer to you— smiling into his next kiss along your throat as he rolls his hips into you.
“oh, but you left me cold and alone, i think you gotta make that up to me, no?” he’s teasing you, trying to lure you back into where he wants you most— not that he wouldn’t have you anywhere, he’s already had his way with you around this whole apartment. but he wants nothing more than you between the sheets right now, wrapped up in him and the plush mattress beneath you both.
“i’m literally making you a coffee. you needed the rest.” you try to argue but you should know that gojo’s never one to back down. you feel his fingers trail slowly underneath the hem of his shirt, before he sighs with the first teasing swipe along the inside of your bare thigh, so dangerously close to your folds that you shudder. no panties either? you really were teasing him.
“hah? but i feel better than ever.” he tries to argue, oh so convincingly before he’s turning you to face him— peppering sweet, ticklish smooches along your features until you’re arms are wrapping around his shoulders and your eyes are finally on him.
“oh, i’m sure~” you grin, his crystalline gaze is sleepy as you brush your fingers through his bed head— scratching at his scalp before he’s sending you a lopsided grin, followed by a quick peck against your lips.
“got no choice. you need a demostration? let’s go, sweet thing. only one way to show you.” is all you hear from gojo before he’s suddenly got you thrown over his shoulder, and you truly forget how strong he really is until he’s handling you with such ease— holding you with one arm like you’re as light as a feather.
“satoru! what about breakfast?” not that you’re putting up much of a fight, you can basically feel the smug look that’s on his face already as he turns to drag you back to bed. you grumble, defeated but it quickly turns to a shriek when you feel your boyfriends free hand come down sharply on your ass as he chuckles.
“hm? don’t mind. i’m hungry f’ somethin’ else right now, baby.”
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© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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dashofghost · 2 months
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YOU AND GHOST MAKE UP AFTER A FIGHT
or, ghost shows you just how sorry he is. minors dni.
➼ you're fighting over something stupid, but both of you are stubborn as hell and won't let it go. the walls of your apartment shake as you slam the door behind you, and you can hear Simon's exasperated groan even through the door as you storm down the stairs
➼ it's late when you come back, the living room and kitchen empty. the door to your bedroom is closed, and the lights are dimmed. you debate sleeping on the couch, but fuck it, it's your bed too
➼ though simon doesn't look up from his book as you close the bedroom door behind you, you can feel his eyes dragging over you as you pull your shirt over your head, drinking in the bare skin of your back, the curve of your waist where it flows into your thighs. you hear a strangled mix of a sigh and a hiss leave his mouth as you pull your pajamas on, his eyes snagging on the lace hem when you turn to throw your clothes in the hamper
➼ you forcefully pull the sheets back, slipping into bed and tightening your jaw. simon glances up from his book, the left side of his lips pulled up, and you send him the darkest glare you can muster.
"this doesn't mean anything, simon," you snap, rolling away from him to switch your lamp off, "it's my fucking bed too." simon only chuckles, marking a page in his book and turning off his lamp, plunging the room into darkness.
➼ you lay in silence angrily, as far away as you can get from simon. you take deep breaths, trying not to revel in the warmth that simon exudes. though you hate to admit it, it's colder than you thought without being wrapped in his arms.
➼ you hear sheets rustle and suddenly, simon's chest is pressed against your back, head tucked in the crook of your shoulder, stubble scratching your neck.
"missed you today," he whispers, hands settling on your hips, dragging higher and bringing your top with them, "missed you so fucking much angel." you set your jaw again, hating how only the brush of his against your skin could get you so riled up, could get your resolve cracking.
➼ you don't respond, but your body sinks back into his, goosebumps erupting across your ribcage as his hands travel higher. you knew where this was going the second his fingers reached the hem of your shirt, but you still gasp softly as his huge, callused hands cup your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers.
"fuck you, simon riley," you try to hurl the words at him, but they come out as whine, your back arching as you lean towards his hands, chasing the stimulation. he groans, cursing under his breath as he slips his bare leg between your thighs. "i know," he groans, "i know, i'm sorry, lovie, let me make it up to you, please..." his voice his low, husky, desperate, one of his hands trailing downwards to land on your hip.
➼ his hand guides your hips as you roll them against his thigh. it's slow and messy, his low voice and the darkness only making you leak harder on his leg. you're moaning freely now, clenching desperately around nothing, head thrown back, landing on simon's chest. he's not in a better state, rutting against you, unable to stop the groans and swears that leave his mouth.
"you're a piece of shit," you gasp as you turn around, pressing your lips to simon's. he kisses you back desperately, still moving your hips against his as his tongue sweeps across yours. "i know, i know," he gasps against your lips. his hands are shaking as he pulls your shirt off, pulling you close to his chest, letting your nipples rub against his faded t-shirt. but it's not enough. "off," you moan, pulling at the hem of his shirt. you pull it off together, relishing in the skin-to-skin contact. you loop your arms around his neck to give you better leverage, rolling your hips harder. simon's lashes flutter as his head drops back, mouth falling slack.
➼ his hand creeps underneath the waistband of your sleep shorts, cupping you as you rut against his hand. he thumbs your clit, watching through heavy-lidded eyes as your thighs start to shake, a blush creeping down your neck and chest.
"si," you gasp, and he bites his lip at the sound of his nickname, "think- think I'm gonna-" "cum for me," his voice is halfway between a growl and a whine, he's so desperate, he's about to cum in his boxers like a fucking teenager just from grinding against you and the thought only makes him whine, ducking his head into your neck.
➼ you cum hard, all over simon's hand and wrist, thighs trapping him between your legs. he drags your lips into a messy kiss, thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit until you whine from overstimulation and push his hand away. he brings his hand to his mouth, eyes rolling back in his head as he sucks you off his fingers.
➼ you lie there together in silence, one of simon's arms thrown over your waist as you catch your breath, forehead resting on his scarred chest. his fingers toy with your hair idly.
"i am sorry, you know," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead. you look up at him with a soft smile on your lips, pressing a kiss to the back of his free hand. "i know," you whisper back, "i'm sorry too. it was a stupid fight." simon tilts your chin up, huge hand cupping your jaw as he kisses you, slow and soft and sweet. "though," you start, speaking against his lips, "if this is how we make up, maybe we should fight more often." simon throws his head back and laughs, a true, full-bodied laugh. you press a butterfly kiss to the tip of his nose before pushing the blankets back and padding to the bathroom. simon groans, both at your absence and at the glare of the bathroom light, propping himself up on his elbows and throwing an arm over his eyes. "come back," he groans, blinking in the harsh light. you shake your head with a little hum, starting the shower. "nope. we both need a shower. a clean, sinless shower," you emphasize as simon pulls himself out of bed with a smirk, making a face as he pulls off his ruined boxers. he wraps you in his arms, tucking his head into the crook of your shoulder as steam starts to fill the bathroom. his hands are greedy as they trace over your bare skin, and he drinks in your giggles like wine. he can't believe how in love he is. "no promises," he whispers in your ear, tucking a strand behind it and leaving a kiss on the arc of your shoulder. you playfully shove him back into the shower, laughing harder as he pulls you in after him.
➼ all in all, it's a pretty good way to make up after a fight.
who put feelings in my porn????
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opluffys · 11 months
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-nsfw/smut-
"c'mon, raise those hips for me."
you're trying, you really are.
"i'm tired," you whined, turning around to view ghost, laying on his back, looking reposed. he lazily rolled his hips upwards, fucking the last few inches of his fat cock into you. the moan that left you was muted by a large hand over your mouth, leather against your lips.
ghost quickly flipped you onto your stomach, watching as your spine curved to create such an alluring figure as yours. his hands were attached to the fat of your hips, fingers tracing the little marks and blemishes that further increased your beauty.
you felt his tip press right at your slit, impatient and greedy, you canted your hips backwards, a sorry attempt at getting him back inside your cunt. instead, this had resulted in a harsh slap against your ass, the sting blurred between pain and pleasure. a small cry left you as tears welled in your eyes, threatening to fall past your waterline.
"patience, sweetheart."
you sniffed, "don't be mean, simon..."
he chuckled, the low timbre having you pathetically clench around nothing. he pressed a chaste kiss at your back, "sorry, 'm sorry, love."
you knew he wasn't. that didn't matter, though.
without warning, he shoved his cock into your pussy, hearing your muffled whimper as he'd done so. "quiet, don't wanna wake up our little girl, do you?" his own voice was strained as he scolded you, beginning to set his own pace. unforgiving and harsh, making you lightheaded and dizzy.
you felt him right at your womb again and again and fucking again. you felt any semblance of your very sanity begin to melt away as he fucked you, so roughly that it almost had you begging for him to go easy on you.
ghost was used to being rather quiet, but you were fucking struggling. any sound from you could potentially ruin what the two of you had going on. and you couldn't take that, not after the lack of intimacy between you two since the birth of your baby.
"there we go, mama. fuckin' perfect." he groaned, watching you quiver underneath his impressive physique.
fuck, you couldn't possibly be quiet after such praise, a moan leaving your agape lips. ghost didn't seem to mind your sudden outburst. instead, the grip on your hips tightening, fucking into your wet and tight cunt with such a primal and desperate need.
he was fucking you like a thing void of a soul, like a rag doll. every single time you felt him back inside, he pushed you deeper and deeper into the mattress. your hands had felt useless, not even able to support your own weight. you offered them to him, feeling his lone hand take both of yours, anchoring himself to you without his pace even faltering. it was a reminder to you both that he's fucking huge, so strong and capable of easily overpowering you. it had you nearly sobbing, your insides squeezing him snugly.
you heard him curse behind you, filling you to the brim and staying still. you shifted, confused on why he'd stopped.
"think you can do somethin' for me, sweet girl?"
"anything, anything for you," you replied almost instantly, words slurred like you'd been inebriated.
"yeah?" ghost started, shallowly thrusting into your cunt. you could practically hear the grin he had on his face, seeming to enjoy your torment.
a small 'mhm' was all you could come up with, words barely being able to form over your tongue and past your lips. a small sob left you as you remained stretched open by him, unmoving.
"wanna have another baby." as he'd said so, he'd delicately traced the stretch-marks over your hips and thighs. his touches were filled with nothing short of reverence.
well, you certainly hadn't expected him to say that. your daughter wasn't even six months yet, your body barely even fully healed. yet, all you could do was give him a nod. once he'd gotten your answer, you felt his body against your back, his lips at your neck. you knew that there’d be marks there in the morning- but that didn’t matter, not when he began to resume that dizzying speed.
"give me a boy this time."
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remi-thirsts · 9 days
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𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐂𝐓 !
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pairing: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, and toji x fem!reader (separate) summary: when you catch them with a suggestive piece of clothing from your wardrobe... content: kinda suggestive, established relationships, toji has no shame at all, allusions to sexual themes, jerking off, pillow humping(?), roommates to lovers (for geto's) pet names, cursing. lmk if I missed anything. wc: 2.5k
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♡ 𝐒. 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
The house was awfully quiet when you arrived home with your shopping bags in hand. "Satoru?" You call out setting all of your stuff down. Nothing. No over dramatic gasps, no 'babyyyyyy you're back!!!!!!" Absolutely nothing.
Satoru hadn't told you he was going anywhere, had he? Sometimes the man talks so much that you drown out his voice, so you can focus on whatever you need to get done. Which means you could have missed something.
Or maybe he's asleep? Only, Satoru doesn't nap if it isn't with you. So... where could he be?
Before going deeper into your home, you remove your shoes and place them neatly on the wobbly shoe rack he built. He insisted he could build anything, when he'd never even picked up a screwdriver in his life. That's kind of what happens when you belong to a wealthy family, but you didn't want to hurt his pride, so you let him build it.
You tread quietly toward your bedroom in hopes of finding him there. The door is cracked open suspiciously, with caution you slowly push the door open, "Satoru are you- uhhh what are you doing?"
The man in question tenses up when he hears your voice. As if you hadn't seen him he hides your lace panties behind his back.
"I was uh," He does that little coughing thing to make him look less suspicious, but if anything it makes him even more suspicious .
"You were 'uh' what?" Satoru thinks you look like a mother scolding a child the way you stand with your hands on your hips.
"I- I was hah- are you really gonna make me say it, baby?" He looks so red, cute.
"Yeah, go ahead and tell me what you were doing snooping through my underwear drawer." He sighs, but it's soon replaced with a sneaky smile.
"Ineedednewjerkmaterial." He says all jumbled up and quietly.
"Speak up, 'Toru." A whine leaves his lips. What a little baby he is.
"I needed something to help me when I think about you while jerking off." He spoke clearly this time, so you stop teasing him.
"Well you can't use those ones, 'cuz those are my favorites. Let me find you a different pair." He's in shock the whole time while watching you dig through the dresser.
"Really? You're just gonna give me a pair?"
"Why not? All you had to do was ask. I'm sure you'll buy me more anyway, knowing you." He snorts at that. It's true, Satoru likes to buy you anything and everything, sexy underwear is no exception.
♡ 𝐒. 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎
You've noticed that some of your favorite bras have gone missing since you asked your roommate, Geto, to do your laundry when you get too busy. It was a little suspicious when he seemed more than happy to do your laundry, but who were you to think anything of it when he was making one less chore for you?
Sweet, little, and innocent you, didn't suspect that Geto could be the one stealing your bras, though. He's too much of a gentleman, you think. He always opens doors for you, lets you use the bathroom before he does, and when you aren't up to make something, he'll cook you dinner.
He's a picture perfect roommate so there's no way he could be the one. You'll still ask him his opinion on the matter though, because your bras are not cheap, and if they keep going missing you'll have to buy more.
It's Wednesday, which is the day Geto usually washes your laundry for you. There is a very important job interview you have to leave for in ten minutes so you rush to get your hamper to him.
"Suguru- I um I need your help with something." Geto cannot help but stare you down. You're dressed in a black blazer with a white dress shirt underneath, and a pencil skirt that should reach around to your knees, but because you had bend down earlier to pick something up, the skirt hiked up just a little bit.
"What's up, princess?" The first time he had called you 'princess' you just about had a meltdown. He told you not to think too much of it, it was just a nickname.
The smell of his lotion fills your nostrils and his hair is still wet from his shower. There's also no shirt covering his perfectly built body.
"Well.. uh. Some of my bras are going missing. Can you keep an eye out to make sure there's no pervert at the laundromat stealing my bras?" A chuckle almost leaves his throat. You are too cute for him, of course you wouldn't blame him for the disappearance of your bras.
"Of course, I'll keep watch." Since you are running short on time you give him a tight lipped smile and quickly make a run out of your apartment.
"Cute." Slips from his lips, although no one hears it.
-------
There's hope. The interview had seemed to go great, the woman interviewing you said she'd give you a call letting you know if you got the job or not.
To celebrate the potential job, you bought yourself a pint of ice cream on the way home.
When you unlocked the door you didn't even announce yourself, assuming he might have been out or napping.
Before going to your room, you grab a spoon from the kitchen in order to eat the deliciously sweet treat you bought for yourself.
Your room was at the end of the hallway so you would have to pass Geto's room to get to yours. As you walk past his room, you almost drop your spoon in shock when you hear your supposed goody two shoes roommate moan out your name.
A series of grunts and 'fucks' leave his lips after the sudden call of your name. Curiosity killed the cat, huh? Well you don't care enough to let that stop you. It's rude not to knock but when Geto's calling out your name like that you think you have plenty of reason to barge in.
"Suguru what are you-" You should have just went to your room. The sight you walked in on had you dropping your ice cream and spoon on the floor. Geto is not as innocent as you thought he was, not when he's got your favorite laced bra attached to his pillow while he fucks it like they're your tits.
You would think he'd have the decency to stop when you caught him, but you catching him only made him speed up, his hips snapping at an extraordinary pace.
"Fuck, princess. Didn't want you to find out like this. Shit- need your tits so bad." He cums with no shame over the part of the pillow that would be the crevice of your breasts.
You can't even be mad at him, it's hot, but you'll still give him a peace of your mind.
"Suguru! That's- that's my bra! And you- gosh you are so perverted!!!! I never would have thought-" It takes him a minute, but when he comes down from his high, he apologizes sincerely for taking your bras.
And now that you know he wants you just as much as you want him, you indulge in his fantasies of fucking your pretty tits.
♡ 𝐊. 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈
He was going on a business trip for a few weeks and took a pair or two with him so he wouldn't have to bother you.
It doesn't even register that any are missing either, because he picks the pairs that you don't care too much about. They don't have to be sexy, Nanami loves anything you wear.
The only reason he does get caught is because he allows it to happen.
It's the second week, day two of his business trip and he decided to have a drink with his coworker, which he never does, but he misses you and a drink would help, even if only for a little while.
Nanami's toleration is high, so one drink turns into seven and he starts to feel the effects around the 8th one, which his coworker cuts him off after that.
"Dude, that's a lot, even for you." He says to Nanami, which he has to agree with, but his drunk mind doesn't want to.
"'s not nearly the 'mount I drink when 'm at home." His coworker chuckles and pays his tab along with Nanami's. (nanami will pay him back in the morning when he's in his right mind)
Said coworker drops him off at his hotel room and makes sure he gets in okay, he also reminds him to, "Call your wife, she might get worried if she doesn't hear from you."
He will. He'll call you as soon as this boner goes away... just thinking about you along with the alcohol in his body has him hard.
He stumbles through his suit case looking for the panties he'd packed in there. A smile graces his face when he finds them, they aren't cute, at all by any means.
He chose them not because they're sexy but because they're just normal, meaning you wear them a lot more often.
His steps are heavy as he about marches to the bed he's been sleeping in for the past two weeks. His conscious starts screaming at him not to jerk off with your panties but in the end, his dick wins.
-------
It's about 11:43 pm when you receive a face time call from your husband. He called you earlier, telling you about his day, so you find it a little unusual for him to be calling at this hour.
When you slide the accept button, you're met with your husband's dick and your panties covering his tip. For a second your eyes widen trying to register what exactly is going on, once you do, arousal pools in your gut.
"What's this honey?" He strokes his dick faster when he hears your voice.
"Keep talking, pretty." He's completely gone, you notice. His cheeks flushed a pretty pink and his eyes rolled back.
"I see you have my panties, what's that about?" A low groan leaves his throat but it's cut off by his words.
"Knew I would miss you. Packed them in my suitcase." The chances of him remembering any of this in the morning was low. Nanami usually has a hard time remembering anything from when he was drunk.
So, being the tease you are, you take a screenshot of him in this state.
"Fuck fuck fuck, gonna cum, please keep talking, Honey." You do as he wishes, saying random little things to help him reach his orgasm. It happens so fast and he's got you rubbing yourself through your shorts.
"You still with me baby?" You ask after he goes quiet for a few seconds. It doesn't take a genius to realize that he was knocked out.
You
[image attached] pervert 😊 sent 11:58 pm
My love 💖
I'm not going to drink anymore on this trip. sent 7:39 am
You
You should, it's hot when I get phone calls from my needy husband 😝 sent 7:40 am
♡ 𝐂. 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎
He can't hide it. In fact, he gets caught before he even makes it anywhere with them.
Last night was another night shift so you got home at the dawn hours of the night. A shower and a hot pocket later you were in bed. You made the assumption that Choso had gone out to see his brother, since you didn't see him anywhere in the apartment.
The sound of rustling around awakes you from your sleep.
"Cho? Is that you, baby?" It didn't sound concerned or anything, just a sleepy mumble.
"Oh uh- yes. Hi, good morning." His words are rushed like a kid who's trying not to get into trouble for something they did.
Your pretty eyes peek open to see Choso digging through your drawer for something.
"What are you looking for, babe?" He starts to stutter and try to come up with something you'll believe.
"You were picking out a shirt for me in my bra drawer?" His cheeks turn a bright red as he tries to explain himself.
"It's not what you think-! Okay it is what you think... but I haven't been seeing you much, since you always work late so I wanted to take one of your bras..." He's so cute. Gosh how could you not give him one.
"Okay, pick one out and I'll tell you if you can take it or not. You have to bring it back later though, it's not for you to keep.
He shakes his head furiously fast like a bobble head, and you can't help but laugh.
Choso is the most adorable thing to walk this earth.
♡ 𝐓. 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
He doesn't even try to hide it, AT ALL. Today was the day of your once a week girls night with your friends. It was usually just some karaoke and dinner and on the occasion; shopping.
Instead of the usual your girls had taken you partying at a club. It was fun to dance around with your friends and scream song lyrics while being slightly intoxicated. Luckily, you aren't the designated driver.
When you had clumsily slipped your shoes off in your drunken stupor you realized that it was quiet in the house.
Too quiet, even for your husband. Toji's definitely up to something, because he'd usually be waiting on the couch for you to return home, and he's not.
"Oh baby~" It's slurred tremendously but you still get it out. Silence returns your call, so you take it upon yourself to find him.
The first and most obvious place to look is the bedroom; you'll start there and keep going. The door was closed but you could still hear him. Upon contrary belief Toji is loud during sex. He probably couldn't shut up to save his life.
His loud groans and moans start to cut off meaning he must be close. Is he watching a video he's recorded of you? Potentially.
Most would probably leave their boyfriend alone to finish so he doesn't get embarrassed, but this Toji Fushiguro we are talking about; he does not care.
You slowly pull the door open only to find out that your husband is not in fact watching a video, but getting off to your panties around his dick.
"Tojiiii, without me?" It doesn't even click that he's using your underwear at the moment.
"Fuck- I thought you weren't gonna be back until-" You must have shocked the shit out of him, because he stops touching himself to check his phone.
"Oh. You're home on time." He throws his phone down onto the bed and sighs.
"Waita' minute," It finally registers that those are your panties he's jerking off too.
"Toji, why do you have my panties? Pervert." And to nobody's surprise, Toji gets off to that kind of stuff. He likes when you call him out.
"Hah- shit. Don't ask such stupid questions... are you gonna come over here and help me finish?" A little smirk covers your face as you walk over to the bed.
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©𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈-𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐒 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!
note: lmaoooo geto's got a little bit out of control
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theostrophywife · 6 months
Text
agora hills.
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pairing: lorenzo berkshire x reader.
song inspiration: agora hills by doja cat.
author's note: as always, this unhinged fic idea started in chlo and i's endless chats about these pesky men. enzo has a special place in my heart because he's so golden retriever sunshine (don't be fooled by that face though he's filthy).
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Enzo Berkshire was your best friend. 
Despite what your friends seemed to think, the relationship between you two had always been strictly platonic. Perhaps it was easy to misinterpret your actions as romantic. After all, you and Enzo were very touchy and affectionate people. It was typical of you two to hold hands in the halls, cuddle in the common room, and even share the occasional cheek or forehead kiss, which you deemed completely normal. This type of behavior has been the standard since you were eleven years old. 
Still, you weren’t blind. You knew your best friend was attractive. Enzo had always been handsome in your eyes, but then fourth year rolled around and everyone else started to notice it too. To be fair, he had grown at least a foot over the summer and quidditch definitely helped him pack on lean muscle. Needless to say, girls flocked to him like a swarm of bees to honey, but he never really seemed interested in any of them. Not that you were paying attention. It was a natural thing to notice when you spent every waking moment with someone. 
The point of the matter was that you had absolutely no romantic feelings for Enzo whatsoever. Or so you thought. Until the bloody dream that flipped your friendship on its head. 
It was a normal day. You and Enzo were studying in your dorm like you usually did after class. Enzo was sprawled out on the rug scribbling away for his assignment on Ancient Runes. You were on your bed reading up on History of Magic. You knew you should be focusing since there would be a test tomorrow, but the chapter was boring and you were absolutely knackered from attending classes all day. 
Before you knew it, you were fully knocked out. A part of you was aware that you were dreaming, but the surreality of it blurred the lines of reality. 
In your dreams, you were still in your room studying with Enzo. Except your best friend was no longer hunched over his homework on your rug. Now Enzo was standing at the edge of your bed, blocking out the afternoon sun. You stared up in confusion as he took the book from your hands. 
“Enz? What are you doing?” 
Enzo stared intently at you, his soft hazel eyes flickering down to your lips. It was a little like being hit with a beam of sunshine. Your heart stuttered in your chest as he ran his thumb across your bottom lip. 
“I want to try something.”
You held your breath as Enzo leaned over. The bed dipped from his weight as you sat frozen in place. He rubbed soothing circles along your wrist, causing you to melt into his touch. It was a familiar sensation, one that always calmed you down but right at that moment, you felt anything but. The beat of your heart echoed so loudly that you were sure he could hear it. 
Enzo leaned in close, his face mere inches away from yours. He stroked your cheek gently. “I want to kiss you,” he murmured, the low whisper of his voice conjuring goosebumps along your arms. “Can I?”
You blinked, swallowing thickly. He was so close that you could smell the woodsy smell of his cologne, combined with a hint of fresh laundry and citrus. 
“Yes,” you responded breathily. 
Before you could think better of it, Enzo was kissing you. It was soft and sweet, his kisses gentle while he tested the waters. The quick little pecks soon evolved into deeper kisses as your body responded to his touch. Your hands moved outside of your own volition, fingers tangling in Enzo’s hair as you pulled him closer. He groaned and tilted your head back for a better angle, your bodies pressed close together and radiating heat underneath your clothes. 
Enzo scooted back on the headboard and pulled you into his lap without breaking the kiss. You gasped when his hands roamed underneath your skirt, gripping your thighs so that you were fully settled over his length. What started as a sweet innocent kiss escalated into a full on heated makeout session. Kissing till your lips were swollen. Moaning into each other’s mouths. Grasping at every inch of skin the two of you could reach. 
When you felt him grind his hardness against your backside, you gasped. Enzo took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, swirling and sucking until you were panting above him. 
“Y/N,” he grunted huskily. “I need you.”
The desperation in Enzo’s voice made you shudder. You didn’t even think twice before unbuckling his belt and tugging his boxers down. Enzo groaned as he stroked himself, pulling your panties to the side. You whimpered as he teased his tip at your entrance. 
“I want you so fucking bad.”
“I want you too, Enzo.”
Friendship be damned, Enzo gripped your hips and watched as you sank into him. His eyes rolled back when he felt your warmth and wetness hug around his cock. 
“Fuck,” he groaned, resting his head in the crook of your neck. “Gods, you feel so fucking good. Better than I imagined.”
You clenched at his words and he inhaled sharply before rolling your hips to set the pace. Once you established a steady rhythm, Enzo pinned you with his lust blown gaze and watched as you rode him. He lavished you with sloppy kisses, stopping every now and then to moan into your mouth while you continued rolling your hips against him. 
“That’s it, princess. Feels good, yeah? Keep rolling your hips just like that,” Enzo said, thrusting upwards to fuck into you. “Wanna feel you cum on my cock, pretty girl.”
The filthy words sent you over the edge. Just as Enzo hit that perfect spot, your eyes flew open. 
You were startled to find yourself back in your dorm, warm, sweaty, and alone in bed. You nearly fell off altogether when you found Enzo still sitting on the rug below you. While you were dreaming about doing filthy things with him, Enzo was completely oblivious and focused on studying. Like you should’ve been. 
Enzo perked up, concern written all over his face when he saw how flushed you were. He immediately rushed over to your side. Your cheeks were so red that he thinks you might be running a fever. Enzo pressed the back of his hand against your forehead and you bit down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from moaning. 
“You’re burning up, Y/N.” Enzo sounded genuinely worried. If only he knew the reason why you currently shared the same temperature as the common room fireplace. “Maybe I should walk you over to the infirmary?” 
“No!” Your voice echoed shrilly in your dorm, causing you to wince. “I’m fine. I just…I just need fresh air.”
“Oh good, I’ll come walk with you.”
“No,” you said rather harshly. Enzo frowned. “I, uh, I think I should go alone.”
Now Enzo was truly perturbed. He pouted at your refusal. Why didn’t you want him to come? You always walked around the Black Lake together. 
“Are you sure you’re alright, Y/N?” 
He squinted at you, hoping to catch your gaze. You completely avoided looking him in the eyes before scrambling out of bed. 
“I’m fine, really. I’ll see you later, Enz.”
You were out the door before Enzo even had a chance to respond. 
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You were acting like a bloody idiot. 
After that unfortunate afternoon, you spent the next few days avoiding Enzo. The dream had completely flustered you. It was impossible to be in the same room as your best friend. You couldn’t even look Enzo in the eyes without thinking of him being inside of you.  
More than that, it was making you rethink your entire friendship. You adored Enzo. He had been a constant in your life since first year. The two of you were inseparable and he was pretty much the most important person in your life. You had never once thought about him in a sexual manner, but obviously you were attracted to him given the filthy thoughts that flooded your mind like a plague. 
You were praying to Merlin that this stupid little lapse of yours would pass and take all the hormone addled aftereffects with it. Perhaps it was just lack of physical affection that was causing you to think this way. After all, you had broken up with your last boyfriend months ago. There was the casual hookup every now and then, but those never really satisfied you in the way that you wanted. It certainly wasn’t anything like how Enzo had been in your dream. 
As you cataloged and compared your most recent stints, the intrusive thought slipped in without warning. There were no secrets between you and Enzo, so you knew that it had been awhile since he hooked up with anyone else too. Come to think of it, except for a couple flings here and there, Enzo has never really had a serious relationship. 
You never really thought much about it. It wasn’t like you were running headfirst into commitment either, but now you couldn’t help but wonder why Enzo had never had a girlfriend. Were relationships just not his cup of tea? If so, why the bloody hell not?
By the time you had unraveled that string, Pansy was snapping her fingers in front of your face. You shook your head and rejoined the present. Before your little spiral, you and Pansy had been discussing the homework for Charms. 
Your friend narrowed her eyes on you. “Alright, spill,” Pansy said. “There’s clearly something on your mind.”
You peered around the common room. For the most part, it was empty. Only a few of the other Slytherins lingered in your midst, but one could never be too careful in the viper’s nest. 
Once you were sure the coast was clear, you leaned closer to Pansy and spoke in a low voice. “Have you ever had a dream about one of the guys?”
Pansy leaned back on the velvet emerald couch with an expression of intrigue. “What kind of dream?”
“You know,” you urged, picking at the cushion in your lap. “The sexual kind.”
She shook her head, her glossy bob shimmering in the faint light. “No, I can’t say that I have.” 
“I have!” Theo said cheerfully as he plopped down between you. His presence startled you, but he looked utterly unperturbed as he butted into the conversation. “About both of you, actually.”
You wrinkled your nose and smacked him on the arm. “Gross, Theo.”
“I’m inclined to agree,” Pansy said with a look of disgust.
Theo was deeply offended by it all. “What? I’ll have you know that I was very loving and gentle,” you groaned and made a gagging sound. “I also had one about Reg and that one wasn’t as gentle, if you know what I mean.”
He grinned cheekily, which only made you lament further. Pansy shook her head in disbelief. “Really, Regulus? He’s the human equivalent of a grumpy black cat. All the first years are terrified of him.”
Theo shrugged. “What can I say? I’m into that. All that surliness and those curls, y’know…”
It was Pansy’s turn to smack him. “For Salazar’s fucking sake, shut it, Theodore. I want to know who Y/N had a dream about.”
“Was it Riddle?” Theo prompted.
“Which one?”
“Mattheo, obviously. Tom looks like he hasn’t had a woman’s touch in years.”
“That’s mean!” you cut in. “I’m telling Tom you said that.”
“Please don’t. I value my life, thank you very much.”
Pansy scoffed. “It’s not either one of the Riddles then.”
“Was it me?” asked Theo. 
“Gods, no.”
He rolled his eyes in response. “It can’t be Blaise because him and Pans are shagging on the daily.” Theo’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me it’s Malfoy.” 
“Absolutely not.”
“But he’s close, right?” Pansy said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. You nodded weakly. She gasped. “Oh my god, Berkshire? Really?”
You buried your face in your hands. You were truly going to die of embarrassment. Pansy continued with her assessment. “Well, you two are practically attached at the hip, so it makes sense. Still, I truly didn’t expect it to be Enzo. He’s so sweet, I just can’t see him that way.”
The shit-eating grin on Theo’s face made you cringe. “Was it good? It had to be, right? Is that why you’ve been avoiding him all week?” 
“What? I haven’t been avoiding him.”
“Sure you have,” declared Theo. “Berkshire’s all broken up about it. Thinks he’s done something to upset you. The whole time you’ve been nursing filthy little fantasies about sweet baby boy Enzo. Oh, I can’t wait to tell the guys about this.”
Panic seized you and Theo yelped as you held his arm in a death grip. “You can’t say a fucking word, Theo. Do you hear me? It’s already humiliating enough to have a sex dream about my best friend. I will literally murder you if you tell any of the boys.”
Theo sighed. “Fine, I won’t tell. Now let go of me, woman.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Pansy. “You can’t keep avoiding Enzo forever.”
You sighed. You were completely and utterly at a loss. Pansy was right. Enzo was already starting to suspect something and you felt bad that he thought he’d done something to upset you when you were the one in the wrong. How could you possibly act normal after all of this?
“Maybe you should ask him if he’s ever thought about you that way,” Theo suggested. “That way the ball’s in his court.” 
You scoffed. “I’m supposed to just come up to him and casually ask, Hey Enz, have you ever had a sex dream about me that was so filthy that you couldn’t make eye contact for days after?” 
“I guarantee you the answer will be yes.”
As you chided Theo for being his usual ridiculous self, Pansy discretely nudged you. Enzo rounded the corner and waved at the three of you. Theo and Pansy shared a look before leaving you to your own devices. Bloody traitors. 
Enzo was unbothered by their sudden departure. “Hi, love. I haven’t seen you all week. You haven’t been avoiding me, have you?” 
His tone was light and playful, but it still made you nervous as all hell. “No, not at all,” you internally cringed at the forced cheeriness in your voice. “I’ve just been…busy. Yeah, that’s it. No other reason.”
For Salazar’s fucking sake. You were horrible at this. Lying to Enzo wasn’t something you were used to. 
Enzo nodded. “Okay, well we’re still on for movie night, right?” 
“Oh, yeah, about that—“
“It shouldn't be a problem,” he added thoughtfully, shooting you a cheeky grin. “Unless you’re actually avoiding me.”
Fuck. Your mind was screaming at you to say no. To make up some lame excuse. To do something other than gape at Enzo. 
Unfortunately, your brain decided to stop working as soon as those dimples of his made an appearance. Merlin’s bloody beard, you truly needed to get a grip. 
You forced yourself to smile back so he wouldn’t think anything was amiss. “”I was just going to ask what snacks you wanted.”
“Just you,” Enzo said, his grin growing wider. Did his voice suddenly sound deeper than it had a few seconds ago? No, it was likely just your delusion. “That’s all I need.”
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Later that night, Enzo arrived with the projector and a handful of movie choices. You spent the entire afternoon pacing and working yourself into a fit. He was entirely unaware of the cloud of anxiety hanging over you as he loaded up your favorite movie. 
Your dorm had never felt as cramped as it did at this moment. Enzo plopped down on your bed. The scene of the crime. You climbed in on the other end and resigned yourself to sitting perfectly upright and rigid while he made himself comfortable. Enzo looked at you strangely. Usually, the two of you would be cuddling. 
“What are you doing all the way over there?” Enzo asked, spreading his arms out. “Come cuddle.”
You sighed internally. This felt like tempting fate, but what could you do? If you refused, Enzo would definitely know that something was up. As slow as a snail, you scooted closer to his side. He took one look at you and shook his head before hauling you over to him. Besides being manhandled, the position was quite familiar. You tucked against his side, head resting on his shoulder while he nuzzled his cheek against your hair. 
Enzo pressed play and you started to relax while the movie unfolded. The peace didn’t last for long. As the opening scene played, Enzo absentmindedly tugged at the hem of your shirt. Again, his affectionate nature wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Yet you couldn’t help but hold your breath as he rubbed soothing circles against your hip. While the gesture usually comforted you, it had the opposite effect now. 
“You’re so tense, love,” Enzo murmured. His voice sounded so deep and delicious.
“It’s been a stressful week.”
“I bet.” 
You shuddered as he trailed his fingers over your spine, drawing patterns along your skin. Temptation wasn’t knocking at your door. It was kicking it down altogether. Enzo shifted, brushing his knuckles just below the hook of your bra. 
“This can’t be comfortable,” he said, hooking a finger around the band. “Maybe you’ll feel more relaxed with it off. Don’t you think so, sweetheart?” 
There was no time to analyze what the fuck was going on. All of your efforts were spent solely on fighting the urge to moan. Enzo toyed with the band, waiting for your answer. 
“Yeah,” you said breathily. “I think—I think you’re right.”
“Course I am. Let me take it off for you then, yeah?” 
“Okay.” 
Enzo unhooked your bra with a flick of his fingers. Almost like he had long mastered the art and this was merely just child’s play. He helped you shrug out of your bra and carelessly tossed it to the side. You sighed softly as Enzo switched to long, purposeful strokes. He started at your hips, then your stomach, gradually moving up until he was barely an inch away from the underside of your breasts. Your eyes fluttered close, completely lost to his touch. They opened again when Enzo nuzzled his nose against yours. 
“Hi,” he said with a smile. 
“Hi,” you whispered. “What are we doing, Enzo?” 
“Nothing that I haven’t thought about a million times over.”
“You’ve thought about me like this?” 
“I’m always thinking about you,” Enzo admitted. “Sometimes it’s just cuddling or holding hands. Just sweet stuff cause I love touching you like this, but other times…other times I dream about you like you dreamt about me.”
Your breath hitched. “You know about my dream?” 
“I heard you in the common room earlier.”
“I’m sorry,” you said. “I don’t know what came over me. That’s why I haven’t talked to you much this week. I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”
Enzo took your hand and slid it down the front of his gray sweatpants. You gasped when you felt how hard he was against your palm. “Do I feel uncomfortable to you, sweetheart?”
You shook your head, biting down on your lip. You didn’t trust yourself with words at the moment. Enzo nuzzled against you, littering soft little kisses in his wake. He pecked and nipped at your neck, your collarbone, your jaw. 
“You drive me fucking mad, you know that? I want you so badly I’d literally get on my knees and beg if you asked.”
The tension was too much for you to bear. You pulled him in by the front of his shirt and pressed your lips against his. Enzo groaned into your mouth. The hand underneath your shirt crawled up until he was cupping your tits, rubbing his thumb over your nipples. Enzo tried to keep the kisses soft. He intended to savor it, but every ounce of self control went out the window the second he heard you moan. 
Enzo flipped you over so that you were straddling his lap. He looked down and realized that you were wearing one of his old shirts and the sight of it made him even harder. The tiny shorts you were wearing was a pesky little barrier, but it didn’t stop him from grinding his hardness against your ass. He tugged at the hem of your shirt. 
“Take this off, right now. I need to feel you, pretty girl.”
He watched as you peeled off the shirt. Enzo did the same, tossing both articles of clothing over the side of your bed. He groaned at the skin to skin contact. Enzo smiled as he drank it all in. 
“You’re so fucking beautiful.”
“You’re not bad to look at either, Enz.”
Enzo chuckled. “Cheeky girl. Come on, then. Shorts off too.”
You took off your shorts as Enzo slipped out of his sweatpants and boxers. He kissed you again, sloppy, filthy, and downright obscene. There was plenty of panting and groping as the two of you explored each other’s bodies. Enzo practically purred into your ear as you rubbed over his shaft. He felt like velvet in your hands. When you flicked your thumb to spread the bead of precum over his tip, Enzo released an animalistic growl. 
“Oh fuck,” he whimpered. “Gods, I need to be inside of you right fucking now or I’ll die.”
There was no time to slide off your panties. Enzo merely yanked it to the side and guided you over him. He kept his eyes on you as you sank down slowly, taking him inch by inch. Enzo groaned, digging his fingers into your hips while you adjusted to his size.
“Goddamn, you’re so wet and so fucking tight.” 
You had no idea that such filthy words could sound like music in your ears. Enzo may have been sweet as sugar, but you knew that he wasn’t innocent. He was far too cheeky to be anything but downright dirty in bed. 
Enzo was also extremely responsive. He made sure to praise and worship like your body was an altar and he was the most pious believer. 
“Enz, gods,” you moaned as he flicked his tongue over your nipple. “You’re really good at that.” 
“Yeah?” He asked cheekily. “You think so?” 
You chuckled. It was such an Enzo comment. If you weren’t actively losing your mind, you might’ve rolled your eyes at him. Whatever fantasy your mind has conjured paled in comparison to reality. Sex with Enzo was easy. You knew him and you trusted him. It was like breathing air. 
Every moan and whimper only helped you grow more and more attuned with each other’s bodies. The sounds you made were a special language of its own, one that only you and Enzo understood.
“That’s it, princess. You’re taking me so well.” 
“Like that?” you asked, rolling your hips. 
Enzo groaned in response, which made you smirk in satisfaction. He chuckled and kissed you deeply. “Ride me harder, sweetheart. Fuck…yeah just like that.” 
He moaned into your mouth, meeting the roll of your hips with thrusts of his own. Enzo pressed his forehead against your, his long lashes kissing the tops of your cheekbones while he pressed you closer. The deep angle in which he drove into you had you clawing at his back. 
“Oh gods, oh fuck. I can feel you clenching around me, pretty girl. You’re gonna cum for me like a good girl, yeah?”
“I’m so close.” Enzo flipped you onto your back and fucked you into the mattress. The tension uncoiled in your core until you were panting, chasing after that sweet release. “Oh—oh gods, Enzo.”
The orgasm knocked the very breath from your lungs. It was a total out of body experience. Your back arched, your toes curled, and you screamed his name, but none of it registered past the pleasure of coming. As soon as Enzo felt you creaming him from base to tip, he came too. 
It was strangely beautiful to watch. Enzo was mesmerizing. With his sweat slicked skin and swollen lips, strands of his dark hair clinging onto his flushed cheeks. You’ve never seen such a pretty sight. 
The two of you stayed curled up into each other. Enzo slowly pulled out and placed a tender kiss on your temple. This time, there wasn’t a single hint of hesitation as you cuddled up against his side. He was warm and comfortable, lulling you into sleep as he tangled his long legs with yours. 
You didn’t know how long you drifted off. It only felt like a few seconds later when you found yourself on your stomach, blinking sleepily up at Enzo. He smiled, kissing along your spine as he pried your legs apart. You groaned into the pillow as he thrusted lazily from behind. 
It was dark as night outside when you were finally done. You couldn’t even remember how many times he made you cum. All you knew was that you were in complete bliss as you and Enzo sprawled out on your sheets. 
You looked up at Enzo. He looked down at you. The two of you burst into a nervous fit of giggles.
“Shit. Did we just—“
He nodded, curling a strand of your hair through his fingers. “Yeah, we definitely did. Two. Three. Four times? I honestly lost count.” 
You chuckled softly. There was a moment of silence as you collected yourself. Enzo lowered himself down so that you were facing each other. 
“Penny for your thoughts?” He asked, nudging your cheek with his nose. “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, pretty girl.” 
Despite your steamy activities, you had never felt more shy than when he brushed his lips across your knuckles. 
“I care about you, Enzo and I know you care about me too. Tonight was….fuck. Tonight was great. I just want to make sure this doesn’t change our friendship.”
“Of course it’s going to change things,” Enzo said matter-of-factly. “You think I can stay just friends with you after that?” 
You swallowed thickly. “I don’t want you to feel obligated. I know you don’t really date. I mean, half the school’s asked you out and you’ve turned them all down, so I’m not expecting to be the exception. It’s alright if you just want this to be casual.”
“I don’t. I’ve said no to everyone because I’ve been waiting for you. You are the exception, Y/N. It’s always been you.” 
“Really?” you whispered, biting back a smile. “You mean that?” 
Enzo nodded and kissed your fingertips. “Sweetheart, you’ve had me in the palm of your hands since we were eleven. Of course I mean it.” 
You didn’t try to hide your smile. You were absolutely beaming. “So you don’t want things to be casual?”
“There’s nothing casual about what I feel for you.” 
“Okay,” you said, processing his revelation. “I don’t want things to be casual either. It might be selfish, but I think I want you all to myself, Enzo.” 
He released a sigh of relief. “Oh thank fucking Merlin. I want you all to myself too, Y/N.”
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3K notes · View notes
the-witheredroses · 5 months
Text
Oscar Isaac Characters Eating You Out
Minors DNI
Featured Characters: Miguel O’Hara, Moon Knight System, Basil Stitt, Anselm Vogelweide, Blue Jones, Poe Dameron, Nathan Bateman, Duke Leto Atreides, Prince John, Santiago “Pope” Garcia x afab!reader (Pronouns and descriptions aren’t used for the reader)
CW: SMUT (did you look at the title?), pet names, slight size difference, fingering, face riding, mention of periods, slapping, toys, anal, dub-con, sub and dom roles, squirting, overstim/crying, untranslated Spanish, and possibly some other things (All are just brief mentions)
These are just some short, dumb little rambles/headcannons of mine, so it’s not written the best. Not proofread or heavily edited.
(Lmk if you want more in the future)
Miguel O’Hara - Across the Spiderverse
Miguel is a tired man, always overworking himself with the Spider Society. All because he’s extremely thorough, never leaving something to be completed at a later date. Because of this, it’s not often he gets the chance to destress.
So, when it comes time to pleasure, he’s just as thorough. Miguel makes sure you feel just as much pleasure as he does.
Of course, because of his lack of free time, Miguel doesn’t care where or when it happens, he’s eating you out.
You’re in his office? Bend over.
You’re on your period? I guess he’s not beating the vampire allegations.
Pick a time or a place, he’s there, willing to thoroughly please you in whatever way he can.
Miguel is on his knees with your legs over his shoulders. His claws gently pricking at the soft of your thighs as he holds you still.
If you squirm too much, he is glaring at you from overtop your heat, pinning you in place with one of his massive hands.
His tongue runs laps in your cunt, teasing your clit and slurping you up. He’s eating you like a starved man, letting out small growls every now and again.
Miguel will refuse to touch himself until you’ve climaxed multiple times. He has the stamina to keep going for hours, and this is just a warm up for him. Besides, he’d rather see either of your pretty lips wrapped around his length over his hand.
When you’re a trembling, sopping mess underneath him, he’ll finally stop. His lower face is shiny as he licks his lips and hungrily smirks at you.
“Don’t think this is over, mi amor. This is just the beginning…”
Marc Spector / Steven Grant / Jake Lockley - Moon Knight
Marc wants you to feel as much pleasure as possible, because while he denies it, a part of him is a people pleaser. He always puts his partners above himself, including during intimate moments.
Marc is experienced and he will take the time to know what you like. Marc practically memorizes your body and what gets you riled up. But if he has the choice, he has you on your knees as he eats you out from behind.
Marc has you bent over as his tongue hits that perfect spot, causing you to tremble and moan in pleasure.
He loves seeing you grasp the sheets as you bury your face in your pillow, to him it’s a sign of validation, evidence that he’s making you feel good.
His hands grab at your thighs and ass as he goes to town. If he feels you try to pull away, he’ll swat your rear until you stay still.
When his mouth starts to ache, Marc will pull up and insert his fingers instead. He’ll move them in the way that has your toes curling and has muffled screams coming from your pillow.
Of course though, he finishes the job with his mouth back on you, drinking up every ounce you give him. He’ll lick his lips clean and kiss your cunt in praise.
“You did so good for me, darling…”
Steven is the most insecure of the boys. He never had the chance to date before, so he’s always worried about making you feel good. He especially worries when he hears how Marc talks about your guys' time together. Steven wants to make you feel just as good.
But Steven isn’t as affirmative as Marc or Jake.
Steven will keep you on your back, his hands feeling his favorite parts of your body. He loves to caress you.
Steven likes to be thorough but also to go slow. He wants you to feel every little moment he makes.
His tongue hits the spots you love, but it’s methodical, careful.
Steven pleasures you as though you could fall apart if he were to be too rough. But if you grind your hips or grab his hair, he’ll go a bit faster.
He lets you have control, his goal is to make you feel good, so why wouldn’t he listen to you?
Despite being focused on you, Steven won’t hesitate to make himself feel good too. Whether it’s with his hand or just humping at the mattress in front of him.
He definitely gets pussy drunk, babbling as dines on you.
“So pretty… so pretty…”
Jake, on the other hand, prefers to be a bit risky.
As much as he loves private moments with you (like the other boys), the thrill of getting caught makes it more exciting for him.
He’ll absolutely eat you out in his car or in an empty alleyway. All because you dressed up pretty for him or gave him that perfect smile of yours.
Jake likes to be quick but efficient with you, at least in public.
Jake sinks to his knees and pushes you against the brick wall. His hand stays on your stomach, making sure you don’t scramble from his grasp.
He’d start slow, intentionally making you panic about getting caught, but as he gets quicker, you become a moaning mess above him.
Jake will smirk as he makes quick work of you, making you finish quicker than you thought possible.
“Tan perfecta/o, mi vida… tan perfecta/o para mí…”
All of them love you so much, so sometimes after a hard day, they’ll each take turns making you feel good.
Steven most likely starts, being that he’s the most gentle. He’s a good warm up and he’s good for calming down without actually stopping. But with the other guys there too, he definitely is being a bit more aggressive to keep up.
Marc and Jake will take their turns, teasing and riling you up. Just between those two alone, your position is constantly changing, there’s no chance you’re getting sore from being stuck in one place.
Each of the boys will make sure you feel good, prioritizing you above all else. They even monitor each other through the many mirrors littered throughout the apartment. They just want their darling to feel good <3
Each will take their time, only stopping when you’re an overstimulated, crying mess.
Soft kisses and cuddling definitely ensue afterwards.
“Our beautiful darling…”
Basil Stitt - Lightningface
Basil, the pathetic, desperate, possessive loner. He will do anything for your attention. He will follow your every order. You don’t even have to touch him, he’ll cum just from eating you out. He loves you that much.
Basil is aggressive as he eats you out, desperate to make you finish. Because if you finish, you’ll stay, despite his scars.
He moans and whimpers more than you do as you pull him deeper into your cunt. His hands grapple at every curve of your body, desperate to make sure you’re real, that you want him.
Why would anyone want a monster like him? Even his own girlfriend cheated on him before his accident happened.
As he tastes you, he desperately chases your climax.
He needs you to feel good. He needs you.
When your legs tense around his head and you start praising him, he starts crying and finishes as well, his seed staining the floor below him.
His head falls against your inner thigh as his tears fall fast. He grabs at you harshly, his fear causing his chest to ache.
“Imsosorry… staywithmeplease…”
Anselm Vogelweide - Big Gold Brick
Anselm is a weirdo, a big horny weirdo, let’s get that out of the way.
Anselm will touch you and do whatever he wants whenever he wants. This kinky switch of a man will eat you out in any way possible, and it’s never simple.
Per his request, he lies tied up with you over him. His arms are completely restrained as he lets you control the situation.
Your glittering heat flutters as he blows on you, smirking at every little reaction you have. He loves your noises, especially when you’re loud.
Eventually you sit on his face, and groaning happily, he licks up into you.
Your hips rock back and forth on his face, his nose hitting your throbbing clit harshly. You’re breathing heavily as Anselm eats you up, his beard scratching the back of your legs as your hips move.
Despite being such an odd man, he absolutely knows what he’s doing, like— he’s extremely talented with his tongue alone. With every squirm and noise you make, he’s watching you like a hawk.
Your high builds and comes crashing down quickly. But when you start to move off, he harshly demands you get back.
“We aren’t done yet, doll. If you don’t get back on, I’ll kill myself.”
Blue Jones - Sucker Punch
Blue doesn’t eat you out for your pleasure, no- it’s to prove a point.
He owns you, just like he owns all the people working for his club. And because he owns you, he has to make sure you know how good only he can make you.
You were in the dressing room when he approached you, his eyes hungrily scanning your body.
Whether out of fear or attraction, you do everything he asks. So when he asks you to strip bare, you do exactly that.
With his head between your thighs, it’s hard to remember that this man could kill you without a second thought. He’s just too talented with his tongue.
Running a club has its perks, including having lots of practice in making others feel good. With all this practice, this man will do anything to make you squirt. He sees it as a sign of victory, that his toy likes him the best.
Your back is arching as Blue hits your sweet spot. Your hips lightly hump his face and nose, chasing your high. His hands grip your legs, letting you ride his face more and more.
You squirt all over his face, causing him to hum in approval.
When you finish, he licks a stripe through your arousal. Blue’s eyes meet yours.
“Bunny, do you act like such a desperate whore with all the clients?”
Poe Dameron - Star Wars
Lover of the sky, Poe is known for being quite flirty. With the constant travel, Poe has had his share of hookups and romantic partners.
Which is why, of course, Poe would do anything to make you feel as much pleasure as possible.
He’s cocky, sure, but when he brags about how loud he makes you scream, you know it’s the truth.
After a long day of travel, Poe is clinging to your cunt.
As his tongue runs laps through your folds, you tightly grip at his curls.
He’s already made you finish at least twice, and he’s desperate for another.
Your cunt is trembling from overstimulation, broken moans escaping your lips as you lazily try to pull him away.
With every faint tug of his hair, he pulls your body closer towards his mouth, not letting you escape.
His tongue circles your clit like a dehydrated man, wanting you to release and give every drop of yourself to him again and again.
When Poe gets you to release over his tongue once more, he doesn’t back off, speaking as he licks every drop.
“Just one more… Can you handle one more for me, baby?”
Nathan Bateman - Ex Machina
Nathan doesn’t eat you out normally, he much prefers using his fingers if he has to.
This man prefers making himself feel good above all else, he only tolerates making you feel good. Which is why he always makes you finish quickly or sometimes not at all, moving on to make sure he can get his pleasure from this exchange.
The only time he has eaten you out was when he walked in on you having a wet dream, mumbling his name as your legs spread under the blankets.
You wake up moaning loudly, Nathan tucked between your thighs, mouth to your aching core.
As he hits your sweet spot, you instinctively grab his head. His buzzed hair provides nothing to grip to as your hips sleepily grinds his face.
Everything feels extra sensitive and good, the lack of previous priority making you extra needy.
His beard provides a scratchy and satisfying feeling as his tongue laps up your soaked folds.
He doesn’t even acknowledge that you’ve awoken, now on a mission to make you finish on his mouth.
His hands grope at your waist and ass, gripping at all the soft flesh he can.
When you finish with trembling legs, he lifts his head, his beard glistening in your juices. His hand palms over his cock as he sits on his knees and stares down at you.
“Get up. It’s my turn.”
Duke Leto Atreides - Dune
Leto is a very busy man, but he does worship you when he gets the chance.
Constantly being needed by everyone, it feels nice to relax and give himself to the one person he wants to: you.
Sure, sometimes you’re under the table servicing him, but it’s not often he gets the chance to do the same for you.
He’s on his knees, worshiping your pussy like it is a divine god. Leto is praying to you with his tongue.
Leto is so focused on you, he can’t even acknowledge his own pleasure before he knows you’ve had some release.
He has to give his baby some extra care while he has the chance <3
His hands touch every inch that he can, worshiping all of you that he can.
Leto’s nose bumps your clit as he watches you like prey, he just loves your blissed out expression.
When you two make eye contact, he makes his assault that much more pleasurable. Whether that’s adding in his fingers or reaching deep into you with his tongue. Man loves his eye contact.
When you climax, he’s smiling and peppering kisses over your inner thighs.
“I still have time, shall we go for another?”
Prince John - Robin Hood (2010)
John is a man of pleasure, and he will devour you as long as he gets some in return. Just… never mention your ex or past relationships, he gets jealous.
He loves different positions and experimenting with you, as long as you’re both having fun or a good time, then he’s more than happy.
John, the whiny man, is begging into your cunt as you two eat each other up.
Your mouth is wrapped around his length as he laps up your warmth.
With each stroke of your tongue, he moves his in tandem. Every moan you gain from him, wonderfully rumbles your pussy.
His hands grasp and pull your ass cheeks, kneading the soft flesh.
John eats you like a starved man, because despite his regal status, you are by far the best meal he’s eaten.
At least that’s what he’d be saying if it weren’t the end to your guys night of pleasure, and John didn’t need an heir.
He probably isn’t the most thrilled to be eating his and your cum out of your pussy, but it's you, so he can’t complain.
Together, you finish and clean each other of every last drop, leaving both of you exhausted.
John pats his shoulder.
“Come, rest your head.”
Santiago “Pope” Garcia - Triple Frontier
Santiago loves to tease you. No matter the situation or place, he will edge you until you’re crying.
He likes seeing you as a whimpering mess, begging for some relief.
You were just on the cusp of finishing when Santiago pulled away, watching as you begged him to let you cum.
He’d chuckle and hold your hands hostage, not letting you get the chance to finish what he started.
As you start to come down from your high, he’d go back in, licking and eating your cunt out.
As you squirm, chasing your release, he’d cage your legs in place with his arms and hands. You’re not allowed to escape him or his constant teasing.
When he finally lets you finish, you’re a trembling mess, your hole clutching at his tongue as he eats every last drop.
“You’re so cute like this… maybe I should go again?”
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Thanks for reading!
Lmk if you want me to add more of his characters or do a different set of characters (like Genshin men for ex.)
3K notes · View notes
lemonlover1110 · 7 months
Text
𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐖
Kento Nanami
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Pairing: Kento Nanami x f!Reader
Summary: Your neighbor always watches you at night, so you decide to take matters into your own hands.
Warnings: MDNI, smut, voyeurism, exhibitionism, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, squirting, creampie, Nanami takes panties and doesn't give them back
10k Event Masterlist
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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At nine at night, you get out of the shower and walk to your room with nothing but a towel. A towel that’s dropping and getting dangerously low with every step you take. You make no effort to hold the towel and it eventually drops to the ground– It happens nightly. 
You don’t seem to care to close the curtains, you don’t care if the whole world sees you naked. And your neighbor shakes his head in disapprovement every time he sees. He sits on the armchair that’s in his room, facing his window, one that looks directly into your room as he sips on his nightly tea. 
Kento watches you bend down to the lowest drawer, and grab a pair of panties. God, he feels so perverted doing this, but he isn’t a pervert. You’re showing yourself to the world, he isn’t at fault that his eyes just happen to look. He might be at fault for continuing to stare, but he isn’t a pervert.
Occasionally you make eye contact, and he’s bold enough to remain watching. And you’re bold enough to accidentally drop something, and remain naked as you slowly pick it up. You do everything much slower, really different from when you first walked into the room. Kento enjoys the show that you put on, putting everything on so painfully slowly so he can admire every inch of your body even from a distance.
Suddenly you have to get something from across the room, and you’re still naked. He can’t complain though, he likes the view, that’s why he continues admiring it. You grab your phone and lay down on the bed, where you indulge yourself in something– He doesn’t know what, but you’re entertaining yourself. His eyes still linger on your naked body, and he’s thinking of everything he’d do to you.
He finally feels like a pervert when he’s thinking of having you under him or on top of him, he doesn’t mind. He just wants to hear his neighbor’s cute little voice as she yells his name over and over again. He’d love to have a taste of her.
You look back at him again, where they make eye contact. You have a sly smile on her face before you stand up from the bed and finally put on your underwear and your pajamas. Kento is almost sad to have it be over so soon, he was hoping you’d put on even more of a show for him. He assumes it had to end eventually.
You walk over to the window, and you blow a kiss at your neighbor before you shut the curtain, leaving his field of view. The man stares back at his own reflection in the window, almost embarrassed by his actions.
He’ll see you tomorrow again, he’s not sure how he’ll face you. Perhaps he’ll apologize, even though he knows that at the same time tomorrow, he’ll do it all over again. He tries to focus his attention on the book that’s in his hand, but it’s hard to when he thinks about you, completely bare just like you were a second ago, only this time you’re in front of him.
Maybe he should man up and knock on your door. Or maybe he should stop being so perverted and focus on his book.
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“Hey neighbor!” You wave excitedly at the man that’s unlocking the door to his home. Your voice makes him nervous, causing him to drop his key. You walk over to him with a smirk on your lips. You try to disguise it as a sweet smile when you’re in front of him, and Kento freezes in his spot when you’re right there. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine.” He clears his throat before he speaks. His eyes look up and down your body, and they linger on the tight dress you wear. He looks straight at your cleavage, and his cheeks turn pink, picturing clearly how they look underneath your clothes. He’s seen you thousands of times walking around your room naked.
It’s surprising that this is the first time you approach him. Sure, you’ve talked but you’ve always had a reason to– Mail got mixed up, a package got delivered to the wrong house, you need a cup of sugar for baking; point is, there’s always something but today there doesn’t seem to be anything. At least not yet.
“Do you need something?” Kento asks, making your bottom lip stick out. He unlocks the door of his home and he opens it. He realizes how hostile his question sounds, and he assures you, “Not that I mind your presence but…”
“Just wanted to talk to you.” You respond. You take a couple of steps closer to him, and you bring your lips to his ear. You lower your voice and whisper, “Or am I out of line?”
“I– No, not at all.” Kento is caught off guard, and he tries his best to remain calm. You lightly bite down on your lip before you glance inside his house. “Do you want to come in?”
“If you insist.” You answer before walking inside the home. You want to walk straight to the bedroom since you know exactly where it is, but you decide that you want to chat first. You walk to the couch in the living room, taking note of how organized and clean the space is. Kento follows behind you, his eyes glued to your ass and thighs as you make yourself welcome in his home. “You have such a nice home.”
“Thank you.” He answers, watching as you take a seat on his couch and cross your legs. He stands in front of you, his arms crossing in front of him. “So… Do you have a conversation topic or–”
“I’m just surprised you haven’t made the move on me yet.” You interrupt him. “You’ve been watching me for a month straight, and yet you don’t even try to talk to me. You clearly like it since you keep watching.”
“Shouldn’t you be the one to make the first move? You’re the one that puts on the little show. Every single night.” He reminds you, making you click your tongue. He proceeds to take a seat beside you, his arms still crossed. His arms look so big and strong, and it takes everything in you to not stop the conversation and get on your knees. You need the man that sits beside you so fucking bad.
“I already do so much for you… You should have the common courtesy to at least thank me.” You tell him, your hand going to his bicep. He hums, raising his brow.
“Why did you come here? You want a thank you or…?” He asks, and you slowly nod your head in response. That’s when his hands go to your thighs, while his face inches closer to yours. He lowers his voice and he asks, “You don’t want a simple thank you, do you?”
“What do you think?” You smirk at him, and he chuckles before his lips land on yours. It’s the least the man can do after watching you every single night. Your tongue swipes his bottom lip before it enters his mouth and presses against his own. His hand goes under your dress, going to your panties. His finger hooks under the cloth and he begins to pull your panties down.
Kento pulls away from the kiss, kissing down your neck before he begins to suck on your skin. You help him pull down your panties, and within seconds they’re down by your ankles. The man reaches down to take the panties, stuffing them in his pocket. His fingers begin to run through your folds, and before he can do much you tell him, “You wanna do this here? Or in your bedroom?”
“Why?” He asks, pulling away. You stand up from the couch, grabbing his hand and leading him to the stairs of the home. 
“Just wanna see it.” You answer. You can easily guess where his bedroom is, and you’re assured when your eyes land on the armchair that you always find Kento sitting in. You stand still for a moment, deciding where you want to go next, and you feel Kento unzip the back of the dress. You laugh, “Aren’t you eager?”
“I just want to say my thanks.” Kento says as he takes the dress off you. Of course you aren’t wearing a bra, he noticed when you walked up to him but he didn’t want to baselessly assume. His hands go to your breasts, his fingers rolling and playing with your nipples. 
“You’re too kind.” You answer, your body leaning back so your head rests on his chest. One of his hands going down to your pussy. His ring and middle finger run through your folds before he begins to play with your clit. You look up at him, and he’s smirking as he looks down at you.
“Is this good enough? Or should I do more?” He asks, and you swear you’ve never been turned on more by a voice. He’s nearly driving you to your knees. You’re squeezing your thighs, and you’re biting down your lip as you look up at him. There’s so much desire in your needy eyes. “Aren’t you pathetic? Cat got your tongue?”
“I need more.” You answer, and he gets his fingers wet enough with your slick before he pushes his middle and ring finger inside your cunt. A soft moan leaves your lips as you feel his thick fingers fill you up. You’ve gotten a glance at them a couple of times, and you always had the thought of how they’d feel inside of you. Now that you feel them, you’re cursing yourself for not making a move sooner.
“Your pussy feels so nice.” He comments as he slowly moves his fingers in and out of you. You begin to moan as Kento’s thumb begins to toy with your clit. He’s making you feel so good, you’re nearly putty in his hands even though you haven’t been with him for long. “You sound just like I expected.”
“Fuck–” You mutter, shutting your eyes as pleasure slowly gets the better of you. You make the cutest face that your neighbor has ever seen as your orgasm approaches. You slowly start to get louder as pressure builds up in your lower abdomen. There’s a smug smirk on Kento’s lips before he does an evil action– He takes his fingers out of your pussy.
He brings his fingers up to his lips, and takes them into his mouth. He rolls his tongue around them to get a taste of you, and you taste just like he imagined. He hums. “You taste just how I expected too.”
“I thought you were going to thank me?” Your brows are furrowed as you look at him, irritated that he took your orgasm from you. His eyes look at the window, and your eyes follow lead. You’re confused as to what you’re supposed to be looking at, until you realize he’s looking into your room.
“You hate closing that curtain.” He comments, his hand putting pressure on your back so you begin to walk to the window. When you’re mere inches away, he pushes your back to the window, your hands landing on the spotless glass. “You really have no shame.”
“That’s why I’m here.” You respond as you hear him unzip his pants. You eagerly wait for his cock, and it feels like he’s taking his sweet time to undress– You have no idea why, all he has to do is take off his pants (matter of fact, he’s just unzipping, not even taking them off). You’re too impatient, that’s why. 
“I’m glad you are. Always putting on a little show for me. It makes my night better.” You feel the tip of his cock run through your folds. You shake your ass, wanting him to hurry up because you can’t wait any longer. He slaps your ass in return, causing a whine to leave your lips. You feel his breath on your ear before he whispers, “Be patient, I’m not running anywhere.”
“I need you so bad… Please.” You sound so fucking pathetic. He finally pushes his cock inside of you, and your eyes begin to roll to the back of your head as his cock stretches you out. He’s bigger than you expected, but you aren’t complaining.
The man hisses as he feels your warm cunt wrap around his cock. He shuts his eyes as he takes it all in. You feel better than what he thought, and fuck, it’s taking everything in him to not lose control. Shamelessly watching you as you walked around naked in your room was enough for him but after getting a taste of you, he doubts that just watching through the window will be enough.
He gives you a moment before he begins to move. His nails dig into your soft flesh as he tries to set a steady pace. He watches your ass move with each of his thrusts. His hand pulls on your hair before he presses your face on the window, making sure your makeup leaves a mark, “You get to see my view now– Minus the goddess that blesses me at night.”
His cock is hitting every right spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. He knows what the fuck he’s doing, and you hate the fact that you doubted that he did. Maybe you should’ve stopped the teasing and walked up to him earlier. 
The hand that holds on your hip goes under and begins to play with your clit, and you’re convinced that the man is set on driving you wild. But you’re also driving him insane by how your cunt squeezes around him. You’re thankful he lives alone because you can’t control how loud you are; although the window does help suppress your loudness. 
“What a tight little pussy. Even better than what I expected.” He praises. He works you up, and it doesn’t take too long for your orgasm to build up, especially after the one he ripped away from you. You begin to get tighter around his cock, and you hear as he groans in pleasure.
“Oh– Fuck–” The biggest smile forms on his face when you finally reach your climax– You feel as the liquid leaves your body, and you’re sure they’ve stained his pants. You could die of embarrassment mainly because you don’t see the excitement in his eyes. He’s only pissed off that you didn’t squirt while his face was buried between your legs. 
He has to have you again, simply for you to squirt while he’s eating you out. That thought makes him think that maybe he is the pervert that he claims he’s not. But he doesn’t give a shit when you’re so pretty and you feel so good wrapped around his cock.
His thrusts begin to get sloppy and he becomes louder. He wants to finish inside of you and fill you up with his seed– But he’s a gentleman… A perverted one, but regardless, a gentleman. He has to at least try to ask, “Inside or outside?”
“Inside.” It comes out muffled but he hears it, and when he finally reaches his release, his cum fills up your warm cunt.
He stays still for a moment before he finally pulls out his cock and puts it back into his briefs. He watches his cum drip out of your cunt, and he takes two fingers to push his seed back in. You take a moment to sit back on the bed that’s near you, staining his tan comforter with his cum. You feel embarrassed as you look at the makeup that’s on the window, and as you remember the fact that you squirt all over him.
“Sorry…” You mutter, and his brows furrow.
“What for?” You point at the pants. He chuckles. “You’re coming over again so you do that all over my face.”
It does take you by surprise.
“I have to start dinner soon, so you can either stay and join me, or leave.” He says, and it sounds like a tempting offer to stay and have dinner with him but you doubt you can wear that tight dress for too long. You wore it for him to take it off you. He watches as you ponder and reflect on your options. “Either way, I’m expecting to see you at nine.”
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paperultra · 8 months
Text
back of house.
Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1,113 words Warnings: Mild swearing
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If it weren’t for his principles regarding women, you’re fairly certain Sanji would’ve throttled and strung you up to dry by now.
“I … I’m impressed, sweetheart,” he says with a bright smile, though under the swinging lights of the kitchen it seems more out of pain than pleasure. “You managed to burn water.”
Your cheeks flame as you peer into the blackened pot with him, all traces of the water you’d been tasked with boiling completely gone. Vanished. You have no idea how or why.
“I’m sorry, Sanji.”
“No need to apologize. Everybody makes mistakes –”
“Sanji!” you hear Zeff before you see him round the corner. “Why the hell do I smell something burning in my kitchen?”
“None of your business, old man,” Sanji snaps immediately, murmuring a quiet excuse me, dear to you before taking the pot by the handle and heading to the sink. He twists the faucet open and running water roars like thunder in your ears as he thrusts the pot underneath. “I have it under control.”
“Under control, eh?" Zeff says. He suddenly turns his squinted gaze upon you, and you shrivel. “This your doing, missy?”
“I –”
“Leave her alone,” Sanji interrupts. “I didn’t give clear enough instructions. It was my fault.”
“Oh, there’s no doubt about that.” Eyeing your guilty and defeated figure next to the stove, Zeff shakes his head with a sigh and points you to the door. “[Y/n], go out and wait tables for the rest of your shift.”
Immediately, you make a move to remove your apron. “Oka –”
Sanji makes a noise of dissent and turns the faucet off. “Wait tables? She can still chop the vegetables and help me plate.”
“You’ll do that yourself. Front of house needs the extra person, anyway.”
“I’m her mentor.”
“And I’m the damn boss.”
The rest of the staff roll their eyes and carry on while the two men argue in the middle of the kitchen. You swallow and take your apron off, balling it up in your hands. This isn’t the first time they’ve butted heads over your incompetence, and watching them now cuts at your last shred of dignity.
Clearing your throat, you grimace when Sanji’s head whips around to look at you.
“Zeff’s right,” you tell him. “Dinner rush is coming up soon and I’ll just be in the way, anyway.”
Zeff grunts with satisfaction.
The expression on Sanji’s face reminds you of a kicked puppy. “But …” he begins to protest.
“Oi, you heard what she said. Get back to work! We have customers waiting!”
Sanji blusters about before heading back to his station, casting you one final, forlorn look as he does so. You imagine that your own face looks just the same when you turn to leave.
You take orders and serve customers for the remainder of the day, as promised, and help with cleanup after closing time. And then, long after the sun’s dipped below the horizon, Sanji joins you on the upper deck with a steaming bowl of seafood fried rice.
“For the madam,” he says with a smile, offering you the bowl.
You accept it silently and take a bite as he sits down next to you. It’s perfect like it always is – savory and warm on your tongue, happy and gentle in your stomach. You’ve never known a home quite like Sanji’s cooking.
His eyes remain fixed on you as you eat all of the rice, scraping the bowl for every last grain and setting it down beside you once you’re finished.
“Thank you.”
“It’s nothing. I figured it would cheer you up.”
“It did.”
It did, and yet, your lips tremble and your throat closes up. You clench your hands into fists in your lap.
Sanji’s hand immediately presses your shoulder as you sniffle. “Are you alright?” he questions worriedly.
(His attentiveness strikes you like a hot iron sometimes, even now.)
“Why haven’t you given up on me yet?” you whisper.
His brow furrows. As if it’s obvious, he answers, “You want to be a cook. A lady’s wish is my command.” Sanji pauses. “And I can’t call myself the greatest cook in the East Blue if I can’t teach others to be great cooks as well.”
“I think you’d be the greatest regardless.”
You glance at him through watery eyes in time to see his face flush a deep red. He looks away hastily, chuckling with feigned modesty. “I’m flattered that you think so highly of me.”
Your shoulders lift in a shrug as you look back down at your hands. You reach up to blot away your tears.
How could you not think the world of Sanji? Or the world of anyone at the Baratie, for that matter? When you were kicked off the merchant ship you’d stowed away on two years ago, you had been sure that you’d be banned from setting foot in such a fine-looking restaurant. Years of scorn and slammed doors had not given you the chance to think otherwise.
But Sanji spotted you on the docks, called you madam like you really were one, cooked you a meal in the kitchen and talked to you. Zeff gave you a job and a bed of your own. The staff gave you a family.
“We’ll try again tomorrow. I’ll figure out something that’ll make everything click for you, and you’ll be a proper cook in no time.” Sanji leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and winks up at you. “I promise.”
As always, your heart skips a beat.
“Okay.”
Maybe, you realize suddenly, you don’t necessarily want to be a cook so much as you want to love the way Sanji does.
“That’s my girl.” Standing up, Sanji takes your empty bowl in one hand and offers the other for you to take. “Now, shall I walk the madam to her room, or does she wish to stay out on the deck for a while?”
You allow yourself to grin, considering. “The madam wishes to stay out here and …” you hesitate but then decide to soldier on, “and possibly chat with a dear friend for a few more minutes?”
Your pulse pounds in your ears.
Sanji’s eyes widen a bit. Then he blinks, and then he smiles, drawing his hand back and quickly sitting down next to you once more.
“A lady’s wish is my command,” he says.
He takes out a cigarette, making a quip about Patty while he lights it, and your combined laughter rings out across the Baratie. It’s perfect like it always is – savory and warm on your tongue, happy and gentle in your stomach.
Indeed, this is home.
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noisilyscreechingsong · 10 months
Text
Eyes
Dp x Dc Crossover Writing Idea
“Red Robin!”
When he backtracked to find the owner of the voice he was a bit surprised to find a young boy, maybe eight years old if he had to guess, dressed in a red sweatshirt that dwarfed him and a pair of gym shorts that had seen better days.
Not many Gothamites called out to the vigilantes, a silent agreement to stay out of their way and not to look too closely. This kid however stared up at him with bright blue eyes unafraid of getting the Red Robin’s attention.
A fan?
Before he even opens his mouth, the kid gives him a small, hopeful smile, eyes shining with something that reminds him of himself when he was that age and following Batman and Robin with his camera around his tiny neck.
“I brought you a gift,” the boy say with nervous excitement. He enthusiastically swings off the backpack he had on to dig through the contents, taking his eyes off the vigilante and showing his unwavering trust that nothing bad would happen to him while Red Robin was here.
The boy pulls out what appears to be a jar wrapped in newspaper, the worn page ripping in some spots to show the clear glass underneath. Small hands present it like it’s Red Robin’s birthday (which it wasn’t).
He takes it cautiously, the kid hasn’t been hostile but this was still weird, and pulls it closer with enough space so if it’s a bomb it doesn’t blow up in his face.
It’s got weight to it and the slight sloshing tells him it’s filled with liquid. He carefully unwraps the ‘gift’, keeping his eye on the boy who stands waiting anxiously.
Tim almost drops the jar as soon as he sees what’s inside. Only his reflexes from over the years held on and his expression turned neutral.
A pair of eyes sit at the bottom of the jar. The orbs were crudely extracted, tissue floating around them like a mane of hair around a head.
He turns the jar to see the irises and… he knew these eyes. The slimy green is filmed with death, but he recognized these eyes from the number of times the owner locked them onto him, the cruel possessiveness they possessed when they gazed at him. Never again apparently.
Tim doesn’t speak for a while, not knowing what to say, but also thoughts racing too fast to form any proper sentences.
“Do you like it?” The small, nervous voice interrupts those thoughts.
What an innocent question on an equally innocent looking face.
“How did you get Ra’s Al Ghul’s eyes?”
The teasing chatter over the comms immediately hushes into shocked silence.
“I took them from his body, so you knew he was dead. I burned the rest so you don’t have to worry about him coming back again. The Pit there is gone anyway,” the child explains easily, not fazed in the slightest from the words he speaks.
“Grandfather is dead?” He hears Damian whisper over the comm.
So many other questions were flying through Tim’s head. He looks the kid over again.
Black hair and blue eyes. In any other situation the kid might have been a possible Wayne adoptee. He’s not a clone from what he can see though. Despite the coloring he doesn’t really look like any of them. Pale skin like Tim, but has freckles. The same kind of nose as Damian, but wide, round eyes. Jaw kind of like Jason, but his body shape is too narrow. Bright, almost icy blue eyes like Dick, but eyebrow shape is flatter. Lip shape like Bruce, but from the kid’s anxious lip biting he could see the faintest trace of dimples.
“Who are you?” He asks instead of the other million and one questions.
The boy blinks almost like he wasn’t expecting the question. He’s cheeks color pink with blush as he grins widely.
“I’m Danny!” He introduces cheerfully like he didn’t just hand a vigilante a jar of eyes.
“Hi, Danny,” Tim greets almost dumbly. “Want to tell me why you gave me this?”
Danny scoffs his shoe against the pavement in what appears to be embarrassment.
“Well, I know when you ask someone for something, it’s nice to give a gift or something. Like I did something nice for you so maybe you’ll do something nice for me?”
He takes a moment to absorb that child-like reasoning.
“So you want me to do something for you and you thought I would like Ra’s Al Ghul’s eyes in exchange?”
Danny studies him and fidgets with the large sweatshirt sleeve.
“I just thought you would like proof. Like the whole ‘bring me the heart of my enemy’ kind of thing. Do you not like it? I couldn’t just take a picture ‘cuz I didn’t have a camera with me, I know you like photography. I can do something else for you if it’s not enough,” he offers worriedly.
Tim freezes.
“How do you know I like photography?” He demands.
Danny tilts his head curiously.
“Because Tim Drake likes photography,” he says like it’s obvious, “and you’re Tim Drake.”
Well. This is less than ideal.
“Red Robin, take him back to the Cave,” Batman instructs over the comms.
Yeah, he was getting there.
“Do you know the other’s’ identities?”
Danny nods and hums affirmatively. Tim waits.
“Oh! Yea. Batman is Bruce Wayne. Robin is Damian Wayne. Red Hood is Jason Todd. Nightwing is Richard Grey-“
“Okay. That’s enough.”
Tim glances around the empty alley they were standing in, checking to make sure no stray people heard. Luckily they were truly alone.
“Danny, do you want to come back with me?” He asks, but it’s not really a question. The kid was coming back regardless, it would just be better if he went willingly.
Unsurprisingly, the kid lights up like a little sun at the offer.
“Really?” He nearly shouts in excitement.
“Yeah, kid. I parked my bike a few blocks from here. You ever rode a motorcycle before?”
Danny shakes his head, nearly bounding on his toes.
“Not in this lifetime.” And wasn’t that odd wording? “Are we gonna grapple there?”
“Think you can hold on?”
“Yeah!”
He kneels down so the boy can climb onto his back and lock his arms around his neck and hook his feet together around his torso. Danny is worryingly light as he stands.
The kid is the picture of an excited and overeager child as they carefully fly over rooftops and then drive back to the Cave. Even when they park inside the safety of the Batcave, Danny’s eyes are filled with child-like awe and wonder, so curious and chattering with questions and wild imagination. It would be cute, endearing even, if the jar of eyes wasn’t sitting heavily in his pocket.
Alfred came down not too long after their arrival with a tray of healthy snacks and some waters. Danny happily munches on the apple slices as he wanders around where Tim can see him.
The rumble of the Batmobile can be heard almost an hour later after Tim has to tell Danny not to touch the weapons for the fourth time. The kid’s attention is drawn to the sleek black vehicle as it parks by Tim’s bike. He trots over with wide eyes as the doors open and Robin exits, then Batman.
Unfortunately, Dick is in Bludhaven and Jason is visiting Roy and Lian this week. Cass and Steph were gone as well and Duke was sleeping. It was just the three of them and this kid with Alfred as the only buffer.
Danny stares openly, curious, as the duo makes their way over to the computer where Tim has claimed his sit.
Tim turns the jar that he set on the table so the eyes are facing them and slowly leans back again, suddenly very tired. Damian flexes his hands into fists tightly while Batman is very still.
“Hi,” Danny chirps like nothing is wrong, oblivious to the tension in the air.
Batman takes a measured breath. Robin glares down at the child, but remains silent for now.
“Who killed Ra’s Al Ghul?”
Danny blinks blankly.
“Nobody.”
“You’re saying he just dropped dead?” Damian sneered in sarcasm.
“Death took him,” the child says simply as if that explained everything.
“How?” The word is demanded and emphasized.
“Like Death takes everyone. His expiration was overdue.”
Bruce frowns and Damian almost snarls.
“I demand you start making sense!”
Danny glares back in offense.
“I’m being very clear! Maybe you should ask better questions!”
The twelve year old growls at the smaller child and Batman has to place a firm hand on his shoulder to keep him from attacking.
“Danny?” Batman questions after a tense moment.
The boy’s arms are crossed in irritation, but he blinks out of his glare to stare up at the man.
“Yea?”
“How do you know our identities?”
“Oh, memories.”
Danny looked like everything he said made sense and it was driving Tim up a wall.
“Memories,” Bruce repeats.
“Uh-huh,” Danny nods confidently. “From the Lazarus Pit.”
A jolt goes through Tim as he recalls what the boy said earlier about the Pit.
“Didn’t you say the Pit was gone?” He asks before Bruce could continue his line of questioning.
Danny turns with a bright smile as if he was proud Tim remembered.
“Yea! Well, gone from this world anyway.” Tim was concerned. “I took the memories from it before sending it back where it belongs.”
“Okay. How did you know how to ‘take the memories’ and send it back? Back where?”
“I was born from it. Duh. It went back to the Realms or I guess you’d call it the Afterlife,” Danny actually rolls his eyes as if they should already know this.
“Born from it?” Damian asks with a wavering voice, hidden well from the child but not from them. “Nothing has ever been born from the Pits.”
“That you know of.”
And wasn’t that the kicker.
“So, to clarify, you come from the Pits. You know who we are because you took the memories from said Pits. Death took Ra’s because his time was up. And you took the eyes from his corpse to give to me because you thought I would like it as a gift so I would do something for you.”
Danny positively beams.
“This is why you’re my favorite!”
Damian grinds his teeth harshly.
“What is it you want Red Robin to do for you?” Batman asks in strangled hesitation.
“Oh!” Danny perks up like he remembered and hops over to Tim with pleading hands. “Can you please make me an identity? You’re really good at all that stuff and I was hoping you could find me a family. Someone to adopt me. A nice family, with a bed and family dinners and a dog. I always wanted a dog.”
Tim has the sudden urge to scream.
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tojisun · 16 days
Text
“ghost,” price’s voice rumbles in his ear, the faint static almost breaking through his focus. there’s a familiar cadence in his captain’s voice, one that drags against simon’s body in miasmic waves—it is, after all, nothing short of a warning. still, none of it matters, and simon continues to march on.
“the mission–”
“stopped being my priority,” simon replies, cutting him off.
there was nothing but a crackle. a quiet whirring. then, “you know this is not what they would want.”
he grunts. “good thing they’re not here then.”
simon slinks into the shadows, ducking underneath the balcony, his eyes frantic as he scans the parameters. it’s safe. quiet. too quiet, in fact.
“location?”
“south of the chapel,” gaz replies with no hesitation. simon hums to himself—price must’ve shifted his directives too, then.
“roger.”
he moves, his boots crunching against the gravel and filling up the dead passage way with just enough noise. there’s still a whole lot of suspicious inactivity, one that makes the hairs on the back of his neck rise up, but he doesn’t get to dwell on the thought anymore. not when a loud bang rips through the silence.
his breath stutters, mind racing—that sound came from the shed.
his legs tense, muscles rippling.
“shots fired!” he reports before he leaps, devouring the vast space between himself and the sounds of scuffling. prayers form on the tip of his tongue, racing down his throat like scalding water.
he’s not even a religious man, but dear gods–
simon passes around the chapel, eyes cataloguing the lit rooms inside what he was told to be a desolate building, before tearing through the wooded shed. he knows he should’ve searched the area for any threat, should’ve probably waited for backup, but simon’s been running on overdrive, his emotions piling. spilling.
he tears the door open, guns poised for easy aim. only–
simon’s body buckles, throat constricting with the words he wishes he can say. but there is nothing else to be said. nothing but thank you’s.
because there, standing in the middle of the chaos, bloody and wounded and banged up to hell, is you. you weren’t even taken for that long but look how much they did to you. they hurt you.
your feet are soaked with blood, your boots and socks having been stripped off of you as though a part of their attempts at making you incapable of leaving. your face is swollen. marked up. cuts trace from the angle of your jaw to the side of your temple, leaving blood to trickle down to your neck, staining your tee. the gash doesn’t look deep, but maybe that’s all the blood covering the actual extents.
simon forces himself to breathe. to stay still.
(everyone has their own triggers, that’s what they were first told when laswell brought you to them.
“remember theirs and be careful,” she said before a pleased smile tugged at her lips. “mommy’s bringing home a new littermate. aren’t you all glad?”
the meeting ended there, just as johnny opened his mouth to complain. price passed around your file and simon memorized every line that night—your tell, your preferred gun, your morning beat.
somehow, he thinks that maybe that night was when his devotion to you started.)
simon watches—he’s always been watching you since the day that you arrived—as you compose yourself. the m9 is still gripped so tightly in your trembling fist, the metal quietly creaking at the pressure. it fills up the space in tandem with your ragged breaths, and he knows you’re still there, trapped in the depths of your mind.
alone. angry. scared.
“status?” price asks.
simon licks his lips. “unstable.”
he hears the faint crackle of johnny cursing from the other end of the line, and simon gets him. he really does. but he thinks they also just don’t understand.
you’re here. alone. alive.
your spiral is just proof of that. proof that even in your loneliness, amidst the pain, you clawed your way to survival.
simon hopes you two were back home—the barracks have been home for years now—so he can reward you. sweetly. fully. you deserve all that and more. deserve to be devoted on. to be adored. to be revered.
you were always beautiful, of course, but there is something sacred in seeing you like this: bloodied, angered, victorious.
he prays that your wounds will turn to scars, if only to give him a map of where to press his kisses from now on.
“ghost?” you finally mutter, and it tears simon from his thoughts. your voice is a weak rasp, like you’ve been parched for eons, and despite that, it spills the tension from simon’s body, his muscles loosening up at finally seeing you return to the topside.
he wants to say your name. he wants to sound it out—aren’t names made to be chanted like prayers, anyway?—but he reels himself in and mutters your callsign instead. the name tumbles from his mouth with the desperation and the worry smothered under the guise of grace.
your lips twitch up in an attempt at a smile. they don’t really get to make it much because of the gash running down the corner of your mouth. still, it makes simon stumble over his feet until he is rushing past corpses and sliding into your space.
“can i–”
he doesn’t even get to finish asking before you’re falling into his arms, tucking in your bruised face carefully on the crook of his neck. he takes your bulk in his embrace, folding you to himself, before he rests his chin on the top of your head.
you fist at his vest, your other hand still tight on the m9, and simon can’t really blame you. even he still feels exposed to any danger from in and out of this shed even when you’ve taken out all of the enemies. so he holds you close and holds you tight, knowing every second is sacred.
he breathes you in, taking in the scent of the leather, gun powder, and iron. it all feels familiar to him; it all smells like you.
simon nuzzles the smooth part of his mask over your temple. then, “let’s go home?”
you shift until you’re peering up at him, and simon takes this as the chance to catalogue the extent of your wounds. his lips purse at finally seeing the gash; you would probably need stitches.
“okay,” you finally reply. your eyes wrinkle as you attempt to smile. “thanks for comin’ back f’r me.”
“always,” simon murmurs, feeling choked up as his exhaustion finally catches up on him. “y’know that, right?”
you hum, nodding, and that was that.
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